


Nothing Burns Like The Cold

by SophieRomanoff97



Series: Wanda's new family [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Awesome Clint Barton, Awesome Laura Barton, Awesome Natasha Romanov, Awesome Wanda Maximoff, BAMF Laura Barton, BAMF Natasha Romanov, BAMF Wanda Maximoff, Blood, Blood and Violence, Bonding, Canon-Typical Violence, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton Feels, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Clint Barton's Farm, Clint and Laura Barton's Family, Dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Drug Withdrawal, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Bonding, Flashbacks, Hurt Natasha Romanov, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Injury, Major Character Injury, Medical Torture, Mind Manipulation, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Past Violence, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Wanda Maximoff/Vision, Protective Clint Barton, Protective Laura Barton, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Red Room (Marvel), Role Models, Seizures, Suicidal Thoughts, Team Bonding, Torture, Violence, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug, Withdrawal, the red room is awful basically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2020-07-28 01:32:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 24,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20055847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieRomanoff97/pseuds/SophieRomanoff97
Summary: 'It was a fairly uneventful day for Wanda until a blood soaked and dirty assassin stepped through the doors of the compound.'When Natasha gets back from her latest mission, hurt, broken, and lost, only Wanda and Clint are there to pick up the pieces.Featuring caring Wanda, awesome Nat, smartass Clint, the Barton family farm and Wanda coming to some revelations about her relationships with her new friends.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TW: blood, violence, torture. Y'know the stuff you've come to expect from me haha
> 
> This is part of The Wanda's New Family series but can be read alone but obviously I would suggest reading the other two fics too.
> 
> Guess who re-watched AoU and Civil War again and had yet more feels. I just love the opportunity for Nat/Wanda friendship and we never really got it so this is me writing that content. With Clint too cause...duh, It's me. 
> 
> Was originally gonna be a single chapter fic but again, It's me, so whoops that's not happening. Will likely be about 3 chapters instead.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

It was a fairly uneventful day for Wanda until a blood soaked and dirty assassin stepped through the doors of the compound.

The place was nearly empty. Steve had taken Bucky around Brooklyn for the day, Vision was off helping Tony with a project, Clint was at the farm.

The only people left were Wanda and Friday. And okay, Friday might not have technically been a person but Wanda enjoyed the conversations with her nonetheless.

It was rare to have the entire compound to herself and sure, she could've gone out and done her own thing too but actually, staying in, watching TV? Yeah, that sounded pretty damn good.

She ached from her workouts, still pushing herself even though her trainer had been on mission. She didn't want Natasha to come home to find that she'd just taken the entire time off. But one day? Nat wouldn't have a problem with that.

The day had started out very chilled. She'd gotten up, done a bit of yoga, gotten ready for the day and ate breakfast overlooking the training grounds. She was about three hours deep into a documentary binge watch session when the door was slammed open.

Instantly alert, red at her fingertips, Wanda flew from the couch, ready for anything.

Instead of an attacker, the girl found Natasha leaning heavily against the door frame, blinking wearily and looking about ready to drop.

"Nat? What the hell?" Wanda cursed, the red haze disappearing as she moved towards the woman.

"I bought us a present." Natasha said thickly, her voice just slightly slurred, her normally perfectly hidden accent slipping out.

Wanda lifted her hands to help steady Natasha but the redhead veered back before she could.

"You don't want to look in my head right now, believe me." Natasha murmured, taking a few steps towards the couches, her hand slipping into her jacket to reach for something.

Wanda was expecting a weapon, she was definitely not expecting Natasha to pull out a tiny black kitten with one eye and matted fur. 

Placing the animal down on the couch, Natasha sat heavily beside it, looking decidedly worse for wear. 

The kitten clambered up onto a pillow, trampled it down, and curled up.

Natasha was trembling, shuddering really, and her eyes kept darting around the room. There wasn't just a little bit of blood on her body, she was all but coated in the stuff. Smears across her face, sticky in her hair, hands red with it.

"Are you hurt?" Wanda asked, carefully kneeling in front of the woman. She didn't touch her, she didn't want to go against what Natasha had explicitly told her not to do.

"I..." Natasha's absent gaze finally found the young woman's and she took a good while to think before answering. "I think so. But uh...most of this blood isn't mine." She murmured, frowning down at her stained hands.

It was certainly worrying to Wanda that Natasha wasn't even aware if she was hurt or not. Usually, she could catalog injuries so astutely they never needed a doctor to determine them.

Also, the woman's expression was...scary, honestly. Wanda had grown perceptive where emotions were concerned, whether it was her natural born empathy or her powers, she was adept at expressions and what people tried to hide.

The Natasha in front of her seemed...broken.

She was holding it together remarkably well but there was a restlessness bubbling under the surface, a frantic, chaotic energy. Without asking, Wanda knew the mission had been personal, had been something so personal that Natasha wasn't even really present, she was still there.

Wanda had seen the nightmares, had been told of some of the horrors when Natasha felt like divulging. She knew that this had to have had something to do with that.

The redhead seemed lost, confused, empty.

"Nat, we need to clean up some of this blood. I need to know if you're hurt, okay?" Wanda explained softly, ducking her head to get her face in the woman's gaze.

Natasha blinked at her, as if uncomprehending. Instead of answering the girl's question, she asked, "where's Clint?" And suddenly, without warning, slumped forward.

"Shit-" Wanda cursed, catching Natasha at the shoulders as the woman's eyes rolled back, much to the brunette's horror.

From her position, it was easy enough to get Natasha laying down on the couch. Unsure and close to panicking, Wanda forced herself to focus on her breathing, just like Nat had taught her.

After a few breaths, Wanda took stock of everything. Natasha had to be hurt, either that or she was exhausted but she couldn't rule out the former.

She'd been so glad to have some time to herself earlier, but now she cursed the fact she was alone. She was out of her depth, like really really out of her depth.

She'd only just begun to learn in the field medical skills and sure, she knew now how to give CPR but that was clearly not going to do any good now.

Okay, Maximoff, what first?

Hand trembling just a little, Wanda pressed two fingers against the woman's neck. She was pretty sure she would know what a _bad_ pulse felt like. She would, right? It was kinda common sense.

Natasha's pulse seemed okay? A little fast but steady. So that was good. It meant she wasn't badly injured, yeah?

Natasha had asked for Clint and yup, Wanda could relate. She wasn't sure if she should try and clean Natasha up or even use her powers so she could see if she was hurt or if she should wait for the woman to wake up.

What if she wouldn't wake up? What if she was badly hurt and Wanda just didn't know?

Unsure which option to choose, Wanda pulled out her phone and dialed Clint.

The archer picked up after a couple of rings, much to Wanda's relief.

"Hey kid, you okay?"

"Clint-" Wanda whispered, clearing her throat, "there's a...problem and I need help. It's Nat."

Clint's tone immediately changed. "What's wrong?"

"She just got home from that mission. She...she's covered in blood and doesn't know if she's hurt and I can't tell because she just passed out."

Wanda could hear Clint's jaw locking on the other end of the phone. "Breathing?"

"Of course, I wouldn't have called if she wasn't. Her pulse seems fine to me but I don't exactly know what I'm looking for." Wanda looked over her friend, that panic in the pit of her stomach never letting up.

Now that Clint knew Natasha was alive and not dying, he seemed a little calmer. "You've been training with Nat and Steve. Tell me what you think you do next."

Blinking, Wanda suppressed a groan. Of course he would turn this into a lesson instead of telling her what to do, which was why she'd called in the first place.

"I...I don't...I called you for that. I didn't know if I should clean her up or check her out the best I can...or wait for her to wake up. But then if she is injured, it can't wait that long, so..."

"So, I think you know what the next step it." Clint murmured.

"Maybe? I uh...I think I'm going to try and check her out?"

Clint's tone told her she'd been right. "Good. You want to start at the head, as you do that, I'm going to get a jet over here. Nat coming back from Russia like that can't be good."

"She asked for you." Wanda said quietly as she placed the phone to her ear with her shoulder. She reached towards Natasha, brushing hair from her face. The moment her fingertips touched the woman's forehead, Wanda's surroundings changed.

_Her throat tightened, body freezing cold, panic and pain clawing it's way under skin. She tried to take a breath but the ice had settled in her chest. She was so cold._

_Her frantic gaze slid around the room but it was so dark she could barely see. Her wrists and ankles were bound and a dirty light swung overhead._

_The single door opened and her head shot up. It was then she noticed there were needles in both of her arms, that the ice filling her from the inside came from them._

_There was something over her mouth, wedged in between her teeth, preventing her from making a sound. Wires attached to her temples, to her forehead, collecting information for what was to come. The wipe. She'd been through it before, she knew it was coming. Her mind would be taken, her body to left to do as they saw fit._

_They thought they had her trapped. They had her as they wanted her._

_They were wrong._

_As soon as the man entered the door, she was moving. Pulling limbs out of bonds, tearing wires from skin, she moved off the bed._

_The man fired his gun but it was no use, she was on him._

_With him down, she moved through the door._

_Heads turned her way, guns were drawn, it didn't matter._

_She struck._

_Bones cracked in her hands, blood spilled and splashed over her, screams entered her mind but she saw none of it, heard none of it, felt none of it._

_She was ice, as they had wanted. Except she was never to be their ice. And she would use it to end them once and for all._

_She moved towards another man in a lab coat, teeth gritted. She leaped, nails clawing at his skin and-_

"Wanda?!" A voice came from outside the girls consciousness and Wanda fell.

She landed on the floor, gasping and shaking, tears in her eyes.

Not for those who had died, but for Natasha, and all she had suffered through.

"Wanda, kid, you better answer me-"

Blinking, the brunette turned to the voice, shaking hands reaching for the phone she must have dropped. "Clint-" she choked out.

"What happened?" The archer demanded, the hoarseness of his voice telling her that he had tried to get her to answer many times before she had.

"I saw-" she whispered, swallowing and shaking her head.

"I saw."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man I just love Nat Wanda friendship. Another thing we were robbed of.
> 
> TW's: unintentional self harm, dissociation, ptsd stuff 
> 
> Russian translations:  
ty so mnoy? - You with me?  
Sestra - sister

Before Wanda couldn't even begin to sort through what she'd just seen to try and explain to Clint, Natasha's eyes began to flutter open.

The girl breathed out a heavy sigh of relief, tucking the phone against her shoulder again. "She's waking up." She murmured, her voice still thick with emotion.

"Okay, kid, that's great." Clint's voice was infinitely reassuring.

"She can hear you." Natasha murmured, struggling to push herself up, her brows pinched and her skin pale behind the stark red blood.

Wanda moved without realising, one hand bracing the woman's shoulder as she helped her to sit mainly upright. 

"Easy," she said quietly when Natasha moved too quickly and lost even more colour from her face. Her eyelids fluttered and Wanda worried she would pass out again.

"Let me help, Natasha." Wanda's tone was just a little exasperated. "Here, let me do it."

The girl carefully curled her fingers around the back of Natasha's neck, gently guiding her head down towards her knees. Wanda had been told it was good to do that if you were dizzy, she hoped it was true.

Despite having guided Natasha to the intended position, Wanda kept her hand at the woman's neck, thumb brushing over her skin in what she hoped was a soothing gesture.

"Kid, how's our spider doing?" Clint asked.

"Hang on," Wanda murmured, sliding the phone from her shoulder and placing it on the couch beside Natasha, pressing at the screen. "You're on speakerphone now."

"Tasha?" The archer's voice was soft and a little hesitant, as if he wasn't sure who exactly he was talking to.

And that was fair, Wanda knew that Natasha could get lost in different parts of herself.

Natasha hadn't said anything else, just sat there pulling in shaky little breaths, her knuckles white as her nails dug into her palms.

"Nat, ty so mnoy?" He asked carefully.

The redhead only shuddered, a half whimper, half groan escaping her lips.

"Natasha?" Wanda asked quietly, sliding her hand from the woman's neck to the top of her back, gently rubbing up and down.

"Where am I?" Natasha asked weakly, not lifting her head from her knees.

Wanda blinked, her worry growing expenentioally. She felt helpless. She didn't know what she was doing.

"You're at the compound, Nat." Clint said softly, "Wanda's right there with you. You just got back from Russia, and I know you're confused, but you're not there anymore. You're safe."

Natasha flinched, slowly retracting her hands from the couch so she could bury her face in them instead.

"Clint?" She asked brokenly, her entire body shuddering. "I don't-"

"I know." Clint soothed, "you're okay, love."

Despite being sure she would do the wrong thing, Wanda felt compelled to help and she hoped she wasn't doing anything wrong.

The girl kept one hand on Natasha's back, her other hand moving to gently slide under the redhead's chin, tilting her head up.

Well aware she could literally be about to be stabbed or electrocuted or something, Wanda was decidedly nervous, but she felt in her bones that she was going in the right direction.

"Natasha, look at me." Wanda pitched her voice low, keeping it soft and even and nonthreatening. 

Natasha's misty green eyes slowly flicked up to meet Wanda's gaze. The woman was clearly not entirely there.

"I'm not going to hurt you, it's just me. The girl you knock on her ass just about every day." Wanda tenderly brushed sticky read strands of hair from Natasha's forehead.

Wanda had felt so alone after Sokovia, had felt like her heart would never stop hurting. And it hadn't really, stopped hurting, but it maybe hurt a little less as time went on.

Steve and Clint were such big helps, she truly loved them and believed they were family. 

But Natasha was just a little different. Family, for sure. It was probably because Natasha was female and they were the only two on the team and at the compound. But also because Wanda connected with the redhead in a way she'd never connected with anyone before.

Sisters were the word that came to Wanda as she thought of their relationship. And beyond that, kin.

Natasha had helped Wanda through a lot already, even if it had only been a couple of months and something in Wanda yearned to be able to help Natasha back. 

"I don't-" Natasha stammered, jaw locked as she shook her head.

"Natasha, look around, love, tell Wanda where you are for me." Clint's voice was soothing.

The redhead frowned, eyes slowly tracking their way around the room, settling on Wanda for a moment before moving past her.

Inhaling shakily, Natasha hesitantly replied, "home?"

Before either Clint or Wanda could affirm the question, she asked, "is this real?" In such a soft, broken tone that sounded nothing like Natasha, that Wanda felt a pain spread across her chest.

She could feel the unease, the chaos swirling around Natasha's mind. She could feel the panic that rose up in her as she asked that question. Could feel the uncertainty and the fact she absolutely did not know the answer to what she'd asked. She truly didn't know if it was real. If she was home or if this was just another cruel trick played on her as her mind got taken again.

"Natasha-" Wanda's voice was rough, heavy with emotion, with pain.

"It's real. It's so real, sestra." The word slipped out of it's own accord and Wanda found that she didn't regret saying it one little bit. It was right. 

Natasha's hazy eyes found the girl's face again, her expression so heartbreaking that Wanda knew she would do anything to anyone to wipe it from her face.

"Carry on, kid, you're doing great. Tell her what's real, what you both see and feel." Clint urging her on really did help, it helped her feel more secure in what she was doing.

Wanda shifted her position, cross legged in front of the couch. She moved her hands, taking one of Natasha's. She winced as she saw the bloody crescent moons dug into her palms.

"Here," the girl said softly, guiding the hand in her's to the couch, sliding it over the material. "The couch is real. It's soft and well worn and it's the same one we sit on to watch movies."

She moved the woman's hand to the blanket Wanda had discarded. "This is Clint's blanket. You let me borrow it when I feel sad or alone. It's purple and soft and frayed, here feel the edges." Slowly, slowly, Natasha began to move her hand herself, fingers tangling in the lilac threads that really needed to be fixed.

After a few moments of that, Wanda pointed out of the window's surrounding them. "Out there is real. That's where you make me run laps and you laugh at me when I'm a clutz and fall over my own feet. That's where I join you out in the rain sometimes because we like the feel and the peace of it."

A small smile pulled at Natasha's lips as she gazed out of the window. 

Feeling like she was really getting somewhere, Wanda trusted her instincts to get Natasha more involved. 

"Do you remember what we did out there last week? When it was really hot and I hated it?" Natasha and Wanda had both grown up in cold climates and the latter had definitely not acclimated yet to the American heat.

Another small smile and shaky breath. "We...ordered a sprinkler in the middle of the night." Natasha said quietly, voice soft. "And then we set it up the next day and..."

"Yeah? What did we do?" Wanda coaxed, squeezing the woman's hand. 

"We spent hours out there in the water. We managed to convince the boys to come out too. It was nice." Natasha murmured.

"It was. I had a very nice time. I was so grateful to you for thinking of it." Wanda hummed.

Natasha blinked a few times and turned her head back to the girl. "Real." She nodded, eyes a little firmer. 

"Real." Wanda promised, "right, Hawk-ass?"

Clint chuckled lowly, sounding proud. "Right. Though I am not happy that Nat's nickname has caught on."

Natasha smiled in the direction of the phone, though the smile quickly faded. "Clint?"

"Yeah, love?" The archer asked quietly.

"I miss you." She breathed.

"I miss you too, why d'you think I'm getting a jet over to you?" He hummed.

Natasha frowned a little, still dazed. "Why?"

"To bring you to the farm, silly. Laura reckons you could be here in time for dinner."

"I..." Natasha swallowed, looking down at Wanda, who smiled reassuringly at her.

"I think that would be great, Natasha. You would have an excellent time."

"Yeah." The woman nodded absently. "Okay. But..." She trailed off, looking infinitely more uncertain than Wanda had ever seen her before.

"What is it, Nat?" Clint asked kindly.

"Wanda would you...would you maybe like to come with me?" Natasha asked, her face open but her eyes unreadable. She didn't want Wanda to feel like she had to, or for the girl to know she really would like it.

"I..." taken aback, Wanda bit into her lower lip. "Clint, would that be okay?"

"Would that be okay? Laura would be ecstatic and the kid's are dying to meet you. We've got plenty of room."

"Okay." Wanda said immediately, nodding, a smile spreading across her face. "Absolutely."

Natasha looked relieved.

"First though, Nat, are you hurt?" Clint asked.

Natasha blinked and looked down at herself for a moment. "Not badly, no." She said quietly. "Minor stuff."

Trusting his partner, Clint hummed. "Alright then, the jet probably won't be long so you might wanna pack. And since you're in such good hands, I'll leave you to it. Let me know when the jet gets there." Clint murmured. "I'll see you soon, guys."

Once Clint had hung up, Wanda slowly stood. "You're covered in blood, you should really get cleaned up." She said softly.

Natasha hummed and nodded, cautiously pushing herself up from the couch. They both moved towards the door when a soft meowing caught their attention and a small black lump wound it's way around Natasha's feet.

The redhead closed her eyes and let out a soft groan.

"I bought a kitten home, didn't I?"

Wanda barely stifled a laugh, grinning. "Yeah, you definitely did."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hey, it's the mess of an author. If you like these guys' friendship, this is the second part of a series that has three parts so far. Maybe you'd like to check them out too. Thanks for reading! Comments make me very happy💛


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like this chapter and I hope you do too!
> 
> Kokhana - Sweetheart (in Ukrainian)  
Malyshka - baby (in Russian)

Wanda wasn't sure how or when her life had turned into this- a terrifying assassin, still wet from her shower, curled up with her head in the girl's lap and a kitten at her feet.

Wanda kept her gaze down on the woman, shivering weakly despite the many layers she'd pulled onto herself. 

She was happy to help and it was nice to have a distraction. She didn't do so well with heights anymore, not since Sokovia, and it was difficult to not let her eyes drift towards a window.

So Wanda focused on staying calm, on being as gentle as she could be, on being present and there for her friend.

Humming softly, the girl trailed her fingers through Natasha's hair. It may have been clean (and gods had that taken a long time) but it was still extremely tangled and proved to be quite an effective soothing technique for both women as the girl gently pulled the knots out.

Natasha wasn't asleep and she was certainly more present than she had been before, but she hadn't really spoken much at all.

Wanda could tell how exhausted she was, how it seeped into her bones and clawed at her mind with the need for sleep. But Natasha pushed it back every time, a fear well hidden but there in the back of the woman's consciousness. Scared of sleep. 

Wanda got that. After all, that was how they had began to become close. Nightmares in the dark.

The girl hoped Natasha would get some sleep once they got to the farm, it was clear she desperately needed it.

"How're we doing girls?" Clint asked as he looked over his shoulder from where he sat at the console.

Not wanting to answer for Natasha, even though it seemed clear that the woman wasn't going to answer, Wanda offered a shrug. "Does this thing have heating?"

Gaze on Natasha, the archer's eyes were decidedly pained as he smiled and nodded. "Sure thing. Anything else?"

"Music? Just quiet." Wanda suggested, gentle fingers brushing over Natasha's temple.

She missed the crooked smile on Clint's face as his gaze lingered on the pair.

A moment later, soft rock music began to play from overhead.

Wanda didn't recognise it but Natasha's tense shoulders relaxed just a little.

Clint was Clint, so he sang along under his breath.

It was nice, actually. Going to the farm, being there for Natasha, it all just felt...right.

It was how she felt with Pietro, protective and loving and like he was a part of her.

They were all part of her now.

And honestly? She couldn't have been happier about it.

...

Wanda was decidedly nervous as they headed up the steps to the porch. 

She'd never even met Laura and now she was going to be staying in her house for an indeterminate amount of times. Plus...kids. She hadn't been around kids in a long time and really did not want to mess up.

And well, she was worried about scaring them. She was dangerous and kids were...extremely breakable and what if all her training with Nat fell through and she couldn't control her powers? She would never forgive herself.

Clint shot her a grin as he opened the door. "I'm home! And I have guests!" He called out.

Immediately, the sounds of two excited kids running down the stairs, as well as the babbling of a happy baby, got Wanda's attention and she carefully tucked herself behind Natasha and yeah, maybe she was hiding but oh well.

Clint had only been gone a couple of hours so the kids were far more interested in Natasha.

"Auntie Nat!" The girl, Lila, Wanda recalled, wrapped her arms around Natasha.

The redhead blinked a couple of times, letting out a shaky breath before she wrapped the girl up in her arms. "Hiya, malyshka ." She murmured, voice husky.

Cooper, not to be outdone, got his fair share of hugs in too and Wanda was pleased to see that that small smile had returned to her friend's face.

A small hand tugged at her sleeve and Wanda started. Lila had pulled away from Natasha and was staring up at her. "Hi." She said softly.

"Hello." Wanda replied, a little awkwardly. "It's nice to meet you."

The girl seemed to scrutinise her and yes, she definitely belonged to Clint. After a few moments, she smiled and her hand slid into Wanda's, taking the girl by surprise. 

Her hands were deadly, she shouldn't even be touching the kids.

But Lila was insistent, pulling her over to a table that looked like a craft monster had thrown up all over it.

"Come look." Lila insisted, rifling through the many papers scattered around, finally seeming to find what she wanted. She pressed a piece of paper to Wanda's stomach and the woman smiled politely as she dropped her gaze to it.

"Oh..." She breathed, confused at first as she took in the picture. It was her. It had to be her, the stick figure in the drawing had a pink streak in her hair and pink swirling around her.

"I got the picture online." The girl explained, pointing at the pink lines around the stick Wanda. "You can keep it." A flush had crossed the girl's cheeks. "If you wanna." She shrugged, acting nonchalant.

"Thank you, kokhana, I will treasure it." Wanda managed to get out past the lump in her throat.

Lila beamed, looking proud. "'Kay." She said softly. 

"Lila, go on upstairs with your brothers. You know they'll only make a mess without you. Wanda'll be here later." Clint hummed, squeezing the girl's shoulders.

With one last look at Wanda, Lila waved goodbye and headed up the stairs after Cooper and Nate. 

"You alright kid?" Clint asked, bumping her shoulder.

"Yes, I..." She swallowed, holding the paper so the archer could see the drawing. "I just didn't...expect. I..."

Clint hummed as he looked over the picture, slinging an arm around Wanda's shoulders. "Yeah, you're kinda her hero. She was beyond excited when we told her you were coming."

"I'm what?" Wanda asked, brows furrowed, that lump in her throat again.

"Yeah, kid, she never stops talking about you." Clint told her with an easy grin. "C'mon, Laura's just making dinner." He pulled his arm away and Wanda found she missed the warmth. 

His arm wrapped instead around Natasha, who still seemed shaky, leading the redhead into the kitchen, the woman carefully carrying the kitten in the crook of her arm.

As she heard the footsteps enter, Laura dropped whatever she was stirring immediately. 

"Oh Nat." She said softly, walking right over and pulling Natasha into a hug. One that the redhead fiercely returned, after placing the kitten on the table.

"I was so worried." Laura breathed, shaking her head.

"Sorry. 'M fine." Natasha mumbled.

Laura pulled back and raised an eyebrow. "Sure. Here, take a seat, you hungry?"

"Maybe." Natasha shrugged, dropping down into the nearest chair.

"Well I'm making you some anyway and you are going to at least try to eat it. Clint, come on man, get them a drink." She looked pointedly over at Clint who rubbed the back if his neck and grinned. "Yes ma'am."

Then Laura's attention was on Wanda and she wasn't quite sure where to look. "It's nice to meet you, thank you for letting me come. Your home is lovely." She said softly, pausing for a moment before offering a hand out to her.

Laura hummed, "we don't do that around here."

Wanda immediately dropped her hand, cheeks flushing. "S...sorry, I-" was she scared of her? That was understandable, maybe she shouldn't have even come-

Laura's arms wound around Wanda and suddenly she was in a hug so tight, she could just about breathe. 

"We're huggers." Laura murmured, squeezing for just a moment before pulling back, a wide, a genuine smile on her pretty face.

"Oh I...I um..." the girl stammered, still flushed, now wringing her hands.

"Wanda, come sit down." Natasha said quietly, placing a hand over the ones Wanda was intensely twisting around. "Let's see if Clint breaks the coffee pot again."

"Again? I did it one-" Clint paused, scratching his head, "actually yeah, probably a good point."

Natasha smiled and Wanda took a seat beside her, her hand still in the other woman's.

She looked around the kitchen, at Clint and Laura and Natasha, at the art and pictures stuck to the fridge and whatever delightfully smelling thing Laura was cooking.

Yeah, Wanda thought, she could get used to this.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops this is already way longer than I anticipated it being. I love the Barton farm family so much so I had to include them. More angst is coming for sureeee but enjoy this calm before the storm. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Also PS the story about Nat being taken by The Red Room again? You bet your ass I'm about to start writing that soon :)
> 
> Trigger warnings for mentions of blood and self harm (in the past but) It would make a little more sense if you read the first part of his series too.

As dinner was finishing cooking up, Clint gestured at Wanda and the pair, along with Natasha, headed to the living room.

Clint had gotten a med kit from somewhere and Natasha reluctantly sat on the couch in front of him.

"You wanna tell me how you're hurt, love?" He asked, crouched down, hand on the woman's knee.

"I'm fine, Clint. I'm barely hurt at all." She muttered, absently scratching at the crook of her left arm.

Wanda, standing a few feet away, winced. That was where one needle had been, injecting her with God knows what.

"I don't care if you're barely hurt, you know the drill Nat, stop being so stubborn." Clint raised an eyebrow and Natasha sighed, rubbing tiredly at her face.

"Fine. Fine, alright. Pretty sure the drugs they gave me have left my system but withdrawal is just a bundle of fun." She muttered, rubbing at her arms.

Ah, that explained the tremors and why the woman was so cold, Wanda thought.

"A couple ribs are broken," Natasha murmured, tipping her head back against the couch. Her voice was a little slurred again but Wanda thought this time it was exhaustion.

"Got stabbed a few times." Natasha murmured off-handedly.

"You what?!" Wanda exclaimed, immediately moving closer to the couch. "What the hell, Nat?"

Natasha blinked one eye open to look at her before sighing and sitting up again. "Lightly. They're basically scratches." She murmured.

"Only you could call getting stabbed a scratch." Wanda muttered under her breath, causing Clint to bark out a laugh and Natasha to look witheringly at her.

"Anything else you felt like leaving out when I asked if you were hurt?" Wanda asked, staring right back at the woman, eyebrow raised.

"No." Natasha grumbled, shifting a little before groaning. She lifted her leg up and dropped her foot to the coffee table, pulling up her pant leg. "Is this relevant?" She asked innocently.

Wanda buried her face in her palm for a minute. That woman was impossible.

"Oh I don't know, Nat, you have a massive gash in your leg, why would that be relevant?"

Natasha only smirked at her.

Clint was far too used to Natasha and her injuries and how she handled them. Wanda was new blood, essentially, she was just figuring it out.

"You...are impossible." Wanda muttered, throwing her hands up in the air. "Literally Impossible."

"I think you broke her, Tash." Clint murmured, flashing Wanda a crooked smile.

"You are both assholes." The girl exclaimed, shaking her head.

Natasha snickered softly. "Alright, kid, you're going to have to get used to this because this is how it is...all the time, pretty much."

"It's a...thing she has. It's after the fact that the pain tends to hit, sometimes she genuinely doesn't realize she's hurt until someone points out she's literally bleeding out." Clint shrugged.

"Yeah, the crash is going to be a doozy this time." Natasha sighed, the smile slipping from her face.

Wanda examined her face for a moment, brows furrowed.

"You've been trying to hold it off." The girl said softly, moving even closer, tilting her head. "Why are you trying to...Natasha. Jesus."

Natasha had the grace to look at least a little chagrined.

"That's why you're extra exhausted, right? You're trying to push it back for my sake? Impossible. You are_ the_ most impossible person ever."

"I was just going to wait till you went to bed." Natasha mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What, in like another five hours? Nat, Jesus." Wanda punched the bridge of her nose and got down on the floor beside Clint.

"Listen, we've been through a lot, yeah? And you've seen me at my worst. The idea that you have to shield me from this is insane, you know that right? It's me, Natasha, you literally found me sobbing on the kitchen floor the other day. I know you probably think I'm still just a kid, but I'm not and I haven't been for a long time and even if I was, this isn't something I need protecting from. You help me and I help you. That's how this is going to work. Now stop being so stubborn and let Clint patch you up."

The archer grinned at her, "she makes many good points, Tash."

Natasha glared at him for a moment before sighing. "Yeah, I know she does." Her gaze moved to Wanda, something behind her eyes that the girl just couldn't quite work out. She saw it in the mirror sometimes, though.

"Natasha," Wanda made her voice softer now, taking one of the woman's hands, "showing me your pain, letting me know you're hurt, letting me help, that's not a weakness. You know that, right?"

Natasha's expression told her that she very much did not know that.

"That's literally one of your lessons for me, it's why I didn't run and hide when you found me on the floor dripping snot everywhere. What did you tell me?"

Natasha's tired eyes drifted up to the ceiling. "That showing emotions isn't weakness." She exhaled.

"And?" Wanda prompted, squeezing her hand.

"For the record, I'm not exactly sure when you became the teacher in all of this but..." the woman let out a shaky breath and slowly pulled her gaze back down to Wanda. "I said it was a strength. Being vulnerable with those who love you is a strength."

"What makes this any different, Nat?" Wanda asked softly.

"It doesn't. It doesn't, I just...It's different and...and probably not entirely just for your benefit." Natasha admitted, smiling weakly at Clint as he took her other hand, immediately understanding because him and Nat were literal soulmates.

Wanda wasn't quite at that stage. Yet.

"What do you mean it wasn't just for my benefit, Nat?" The girl asked softly.

"I mean that...if I let the physical stuff in, I can't stop...the other stuff flooding in too. You...You saw what happened. You saw what they were going to do. You felt it too, Wanda, they were going to..." Her breathing hitched and she screwed her eyes tightly shut. "They were going to wipe me. J...just like before and I...if I let that in then the memories will come and...and everything that happened to me will come flooding back. How could it not? They were going to do the exact same thing Madame used to do and..."

Wanda didn't exactly know what to say to that. In time, she was sure she'd learn but in the meantime, she was grateful for Clint.

"Then we deal with that." The archer murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of Natasha's hand. "But you don't deal with that alone. You know how that ends, Tash."

Wanda thought she knew how that would end too.

She'd heard many stories of the infamous Black Widow. Some she'd heard at Shield, some from the Avengers. Most she didn't know if they were true or not, but some she had a gut feeling about.

She'd heard the story of Natasha getting taken by The Red Room again. She'd heard how after months of searching, Clint had found her, broken and doing ballet in a room of mirrors.

She'd heard that he'd brought her home but that everything had changed. That she didn't eat, didn't sleep, barely moved, didn't say anything until one day she ran.

Clint had spent two weeks searching before he'd found her again, chained to a rusty old bed with handcuffs she'd stolen, covered in her own blood, staring up at the ceiling, lost.

Wanda knew, she knew how trying to deal with the horrors alone went. Her and Natasha had different beginnings but the endings often remained the same.

Wanda's arms itched with years old wounds and her eyes searched Natasha's. "You can't." She said, voice soft and strained. "Nat, you can't do that."

The woman in front of her winced and shook her head. "I know. I know I can't. I wasn't...I didn't want you to..."

"I know." Wanda said softly. "God, Natasha, you know I know. I get it. But if you're...worried about triggering me or something, you need to stop right now. I'm a big girl. I know what and how much I can handle and if I gets too much, I will let you know, I promise. But I am...I am not about to let you tread those waters without me. You have to know by now that I'm here for you. For good. Nothing is going to change that."

Then Natasha looked up at her, green eyes filled with un-shed tears as she said two words that Wanda thought she would never ever hear.

"I'm scared." The woman breathed, a single tear spilling over her cheek. "Wanda, I'm scared. I...I can't go back there, I can't."

"You won't." Wanda said fiercely. "You won't. But Nat, you have to let it in. You can't keep forcing it out, that's going to end badly."

"You're right. I...I know you're right." Natasha whispered, wiping at her eyes. "I won't let it. I just...It's going to be a mess, kid."

"There's a lot of that going around." The girl shrugged a shoulder. "Let it in, Nat."

She did.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh boy the whump is a'coming. Prepare for feels.
> 
> Tw: mentions of past abuse and torture and medical experimentation, you know, the usual for me. Also, withdrawal and pain and stuff. Whoops.
> 
> Thanks for all the support!!! You're all amazing.

At first, Wanda didn't really notice any outward signs that Natasha was struggling anymore than before.

But as Clint began to clean to blood around the wound on her leg, the woman grit her teeth and attempted to look casual as she pressed the back of her hand to her lips.

"I know, love, I'm sorry." Clint said kindly, gently patting her knee.

"Here," Wanda said softly, sitting down besides Natasha, wrapping an arm around the woman's shoulders.

Natasha was shivering pretty badly so Wanda rubbed up at down her arm in an attempt to help the chills.

"Not long, Nat, Clint's an asshole sometimes but he knows what he's doing, huh?" Wanda hummed.

"He likes to think he does." Natasha murmured, closing her eyes.

"Hey, who's fixing you up right now? Be nice." Clint rolled his eyes.

It was strange, Wanda had to admit. She'd literally seen Natasha get slammed into a wall and get straight back up, hair coated with blood. She'd seen Natasha fight with a broken arm, still using it to kick ass.

And now, she was flinching and making soft little noises of pain as Clint cleaned the wound.

Wanda wondered if it had anything to do with The Red Room or if it was just how Natasha was made. Her mind started to kick into overdrive.

But still, even after the broken arm incident, even after Bruce had had to set it, she'd not been in as much pain as she was now. Maybe the mental exhaustion and pain were also translating into physical?

Hell, she wasn't even sure why she was trying to figure it out. You didn't figure out an enigma like Natasha Romanoff, not after the few amount of months they'd had together.

"'Kay, Nat, you know I'm going to have to stitch this. But hey, on the bright side, we actually have anaesthetic and clean needles here. Not like Budapest, huh?" Clint looked up, using the mention of an old mission to try and gauge where abouts she was.

Natasha's lips pulled up into a tiny smile. "We stole some vodka from the market. I drank half of it before you even started on the stitches. You burnt your finger trying to steralise the needle.''

"That sounds...horrifying." Wanda muttered. "And I stick with my earlier statement of you two literally being impossible."

Natasha hummed absently, tipping her head back against the couch. "Okay, better now than later, I guess." 

"I'm just gonna inject the anaesthetic and then we'll be good to go, you shouldn't feel anything." Clint murmured. "You want a countdown?"

"No I don't want a countdown, just get it...ow, fucking bastard." Natasha grunted, gritting her teeth as Clint slid the needle out from her leg. 

"You're the one who didn't want the countdown." Clint shrugged. "As that's starting to work, show me the 'scratches' or as others like to call them, honest to god stab wounds."

Natasha, face pale, winced as she shifted a little. She pulled at the neckline of the shirt, pulling it down a little so Clint could see the mark there. "See. Scratch." She told him.

"I don't know about that, Nat, it's pretty deep." Clint murmured.

"It's fine. Nothing's hit and it's not even bleeding _and_ I don't even need stitches." She muttered defiantly.

Clint rolled his eyes again and Wanda was definitely sensing a theme. 

"And the other?" The archer asked.

Natasha lifted the hem of the shirt and okay, that one _was_ more of a scratch but it was also a fucking big one.

As Clint examined the cut, Wanda noted the bruises peeking out from the shirt.

Natasha found her staring. "Just a few broken ribs." She told the girl. "Nothing can really be done for that apart from wrapping them up. "Just looks bad."

"Yeah, just a little." Wanda murmured.

"Alright. You promise there's nothing else I should know about?" Clint asked Natasha, eyebrow raised.

"There's nothing. Cuts and bruises, the usual stuff. I'm just...fucking itchy." Natasha muttered, scratching again at the inside of her arm.

"Go easy, Nat, you've done this before." Clint said quietly, glancing at Wanda.

Taking the hint, the girl took Natasha's hand in her own before looking away and into the kitchen.

She remembered that feeling all too well.

_Locked up in her cell, fire in her veins and an itch under her skin so fierce she bloodied her nails in seconds trying to reach it. The freezing cold of her body, how violently she shook, twitching on the floor. The pain that lit her body on fire, every tiny bit of skin that brushed against anything else absolute agony._

_Pietro's voice from the cell beside hers, talking to her, telling her made up stories, hours blurring into one another._

_How it had gotten way worse before it got better._

Natasha had one hell of a trip in front of her.

"Wanda?" The way Clint said her name made it seem like it certainly wasn't the first time.

The girl blinked and slowly brought her gaze back, finding both Clint and Natasha watching her intently.

Wanda could feel her cheeks flaming at the scrutiny. "I just...we were tested on a lot." She shrugged. "Pietro's powers came in quicker than mine so they had to keep adjusting things and changing things until they got mine to work. And no, it's not triggering me. In fact, it probably means I'm best equipped to help."

Natasha's eyes had darkened as Wanda spoke and the grip on her hand had gotten tighter. 

"It's okay, Nat." Wanda said quietly, "I'm okay, I promise." She turned to Clint. "Can we hurry up with the patching up? Things can change fast with withdrawal, it's messy."

"Yes, ma'am." Clint hummed, slowly moving his gaze back to the stitches he must have started when Wanda zoned out.

Natasha had stopped looking at her, but not because she'd lost interest, because she looked like she could potentially throw up.

"Nat?" Wanda asked softly, resting her hand against the back of her neck.

"Hurts." The woman muttered, brows furrowed. Her arm was wrapped around her torso and she was hunched forward in on herself.

"Your leg?" Clint asked, halting immediately.

"No." Natasha shuddered, squeezing her eyes shut. "'S fine. Just get it done. Please."

"You're okay." Wanda murmured. "And you're not alone." She dared to stroke her fingers through the woman's hair again, even knowing that her hand could literally get broken in 0.2 seconds flat.

"Just a couple more, Tash, then we can bandage everything else up." Clint said quietly. "The guest room's ready."

"You'll feel better when you lay down, you don't want to curl up too much, it'll only make you sick." Wanda murmured, pressing a hand to Natasha's shoulder to ease her back up against the couch.

"We'll get some tea, lots of blankets, some meds, you'll feel better in no time." Wanda assured her, though taking a look at the woman's pain pinched and pale face, she wasn't so sure.

A thought occurred to her after a moment as a memory of a kid opposite her old cell crawled into her mind.

"Nat..." Wanda paused, knowing she was possibly about to overstep in a major way. "Is it possible...I've seen it before, I just thought that maybe...well, electrical currents can affect the brain right? Obviously. I just...when you were...wiped," she said the word hesitantly, waiting for any sign she should shut up immediately. "Maybe something happened? When...when did you notice your pain getting worse for things that didn't hurt so much before?" Realising she could be grasping at unconnected straws, Wanda sighed. "Sorry. It was just...an idea. I don't..."

And then Natasha was looking at her, brows furrowed and misty green eyes wide.

"Sorry. That was...sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it." The room was so quiet Wanda seriously considered running and hiding for at least five full seconds. Oh man, she really did not feel like getting punched.

"After." Natasha whispered, her lower lip trembling.

"What?" Wanda frowned, glancing at the archer, watching them with a calculated gaze.

"It was after. Holy shit, Wanda. How did you...How did you guess that? I hadn't even made the connection before. I just...I guess I assumed the training got more intense, we hit harder, drew blood, didn't hold back as we got older but...you're right. You're fucking right. It was after the wipe."

Wanda blinked, nervous. "I am?" She asked, uncertain. "It was just...I think I've seen this happen before. Not with...a wipe, but they shocked us. ECT or whatever. It didn't really effect me but there was this boy...Thomas, he had the same sort of thing. Used to scream whenever they used needles or anything. At the time, I thought it was fear. You know, panicking, but..."

"Jesus, kid." Clint muttered, face drawn.

Wanda waved a hand nonchalantly. "It's fine. I...I know it doesn't fix it. Doesn't make it better but sometimes...having a reason, an answer, it helps."

"Yeah..." Natasha blinked, nodding her head. "I think you're right."

Wanda shrugged, a little uncomfortable with the intensity of the gazes on her.

Clint slowly returned to the last few stitches, patting Natasha's knee when done.

"Just some butterfly stitches and bandages and you're good to go." He murmured, moving closer to Natasha to start on that.

Natasha flinched as his hand gently brushed her skin, almost jumping.

Wanda hummed sympathetically, returning to gently brushing through the woman's hair.

By the time Clint had finished patching her up, Natasha looked about ready to be sick or pass out. Possibly both.

"Let's get you into bed, firebird." Clint murmured. "Can you walk?"

Natasha murmured something indecipherable, shuffling forward on the couch and slowly lowering her leg off the coffee table.

Wanda moved to stand, not wanting to force help if the woman didn't want it, but there in case she fell.

Natasha very carefully got to her feet, limping because her leg was still numb from the anaesthetic.

As she hopped over to the bottom of the stairs, Clint and Wanda shared a look.

That woman was _stubborn_.

Wanda stood very close behind her, able to tell when the pain and/exhaustion got too much. 

Luckily, they were almost at the top of the stairs and Wanda was there to quickly move her forward instead of backwards, so Natasha didn't go tumbling down the stairs.

Clint slid past them and stood at the top, taking Natasha's hands and helping her up the last few.

After a lot of struggle, Natasha was finally on the bed.

Wanda placed a few pillows behind the woman's head as she sank down, easily helping her get her legs up. 

Clint had disappeared for a few minutes as Wanda piled blankets from the bottom of the bed over Natasha. 

"You're going to feel cold, really cold, but you need to watch how many covers you're using because you're probably going to run a fever." Wanda murmured, brushing hair from the woman's face so she could sneakily check if a fever had already set in. It hadn't, but that didn't mean it wasn't coming.

Clint returned with a bottle of gatorade and some meds and between the three of them, they managed to get Natasha to take them with as little spillage as possible.

"Alright, Nat, I'm going to see if Laura has anything easy for you to eat." Clint said softly. "Anything else we need?" He asked Wanda, as if she was the expert in all of that.

"A trash can maybe? Just in case." Wanda winced.

Clint nodded, eyes slowly moving from Natasha as he stepped out the room.

"You want me to stay with you until you fall asleep?" Wanda asked carefully, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Natasha's hazy gaze slid up to her face and she swallowed a few times, lips twitching as if she wanted to speak.

"You don't need to say anything, Nat, it's alright. Just nod or shake your head?" Wanda said kindly.

After a second, Natasha nodded, holding out her hand.

Wanda took it, shifting up the bed to sit properly beside her, hands in her lap.

"Sleep, Nat. We've got you."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter but still good :)

After Natasha had fallen asleep, Laura had quietly stuck her head around the door to tell then that dinner was ready.

Clint carefully stood from the bottom of the bed and Wanda untangled fingers from Natasha's so she could get up too.

She paused on her way out the door, watching Natasha toss and turn restlessly.

"She'll be okay, kid, you have to eat though, it's been...a day." Clint murmured, hooking an arm around her neck. "Nat'll shout if she needs us."

When they got downstairs, Wanda saw that the two older kids were sitting on the floor in front of the TV, eating from little tables.

Laura sat with Nate on one knee and her food carefully perched on the couch arm.

There was a perfectly good dining table literally feet away but as Wanda and Clint retrieved their plates and sat down, the girl taking an armchair, she wondered if it was for her benefit.

Sitting across from one another at a table seemed so formal and honestly, super anxiety inducing, it was better this way, with the TV on for distraction.

Laura was clever.

After nervously fiddling with her fork for a few moments, Wanda began to eat. And holy shit, was it good.

"Oh wow." Wanda couldn't help but murmur as she swallowed a bite of pasta. "This is seriously good."

Laura smiled, the faintest hint on pink at her cheeks. "I'm glad you like it. You're welcome to more, I made too much." 

Yeah, Wanda was definitely going to take her up on that offer.

The atmosphere as they ate was nice. Companionable, really. 

But despite how calm it was downstairs, Wanda's attention kept being pulled back to upstairs, and she found she was anxious to get back up there.

Clint was better at hiding it but he had his better ear tilted towards the stairs and he kept glancing at the ceiling as if he could see through it.

Laura too, seemed to be feeling slightly unsettled and she picked at her food more than ate it.

Wanda was at once intensely interested in knowing the story there. She knew bits and pieces of how Natasha and Clint had come to be friends and she wondered if there was anything more than the obvious to the women's relationship.

The girl found that she just wanted to know more. More about Natasha, about Clint. About their lives and what made them who they were. She found that she also wouldn't say no to divulging more of her own self.

Was that what it meant to be friends with someone? 

She'd had a few childhood friends but beyond that, she'd only ever had Pietro and he was her twin, her blood, not just her friend.

Could she even be a friend? Did she even know what that meant? The answer was a very uncertain maybe.

She had to face facts. Wanda Maximoff did not know how to even begin forging friendships.

Suddenly, she was pulled from her thoughts from an ear splitting scream coming from upstairs.

Wanda and Clint were both on their feet in mere milliseconds. They exchanged glances.

"I've got this." Wanda said quietly, firmly.

Clint watched her for a second before glancing towards the panicked faces of his kids as more screams came from above.

"I know you do. Go on." Clint nodded.

Wanda took off running up the stairs, pink at her fingers as she prepared herself for what she might find.

More than once, Natasha had come at her, thinking she was someone else, and Wanda refused to be caught off guard again.

However, as she pushed the door open, the pink disappeared.

No one came towards her because the woman screaming was curled up on the floor, arms entirely covering her face.

"Natasha." Wanda kept her voice even, taking small steps towards the woman.

A whimper pulled itself from Natasha and in that moment, Wanda didn't see her friend, she saw a wounded animal, in pain and afraid.

The girl knew that feeling all too well.

"Nat?" Wanda said louder, crouching down, the fear that had come with those first few times of doing this, long gone.

Wanda reached out, touching Natasha's shoulder.

The woman reacted violently, lurching up and backing up so quickly she slammed into the frame of the bed before getting very far.

She was awake though, so Wanda just moved her position, kneeling in front of Natasha.

The redhead was coated with sweat, hair sticking to her head and her breathing ragged.

Wanda could feel the frantic, tumultuous, racing thoughts in her head. They were fuzzy, hazy, kept slipping from her head to be replaced with new ones.

Withdrawal had definitely set it and the nightmare had only added fuel to the fire of Natasha's confusion and panic.

"You're okay, Nat. You're okay. You just had a night mare and you're on the floor now but I'm going to get you back to bed, okay?" Wanda said, very slowly reaching out to touch Natasha's shoulder.

Glassy green eyes rolled up to the girl's face, tear tracks making lines down flushed cheeks.

But Natasha didn't pull away so Wanda persisted, taking the woman's elbow and very carefully, beginning to pull her up.

Once Natasha was settled back into bed, Wanda's mind was already made up. She wasn't going anywhere this time.

Using the small en-suite bathroom, Wanda gathered various items.

Once back in the room, she handed Natasha a cold cloth, after trying to sneakily determine if she had a fever.

She definitely did.

Natasha hadn't said anything, but watched her carefully as she moved around.

Wanda removed all but one blanket, draping it over the woman before instructing her to rest the cloth on her forehead.

"I know you feel cold, but this is going to help." She said softly.

She set the other items in reach; a glass of water, more meds, and the kitten she'd found trying to drink from the faucet.

The kitten curled up beside Natasha's head and Wanda watched as the woman relaxed a little, fingers running through fur. 

"You already know how shitty you're going to feel but I'm here to try and make it as easy as possible, okay?" Wanda asked softly.

Natasha tried to speak and failed a few times before managing to get her mouth to work. "Why?"

"Why what?" Wanda frowned, "why am I helping you?" The girl paused for a few seconds, humming.

And then she had the answer.

"Because you're my friend. And I want to help." She shrugged.

Maybe she wasn't as bad at this whole friend thing as she thought.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. There are trigger warnings for this chapter: past torture and being drugged, mentions of past self harm and a brief mention of suicidal thoughts.
> 
> Also as much as I know about The Red Room, I don't know a whole lot about the twin's experiments. This is mainly taken from my own head so I'm sorry if anything is wrong but hey fanfiction is where you can store your own ideas right.
> 
> I hope you like this chapter. I'm quite proud of it.

Wanda had been hoping that Natasha would fall back asleep, she badly needed to rest up or the whole experience was going to be a lot worse.

But her friend's face was twisted with something Wanda seldom saw; pain.

A small shudder ran through the girl as she remembered the biting, stabbing pain, constantly under her skin.

"What can I do, Nat?" Wanda asked softly, absently wiping at the redhead's face with the cold cloth.

Natasha looked up at her, not saying anything for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse and quiet. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Wanda knew immediately what she meant by that and whilst months earlier, the answer to that question would have been a firm no, she found that she really did want to say yes.

She'd never shared her experiences there with anyone but Pietro, scared of the pity and just scared about divulging something so secret. But Natasha...was an enigma. Different. Wanda knew she wouldn't pity her. She would understand. And that was exactly what she needed, honestly.

"Okay." Wanda nodded, settling against the headboard. 

"You don't have to." Natasha said quickly. "I understand."

"I know you do." Wanda said softly. "That's why I want to tell you." She said honestly. "You know little bits of it because I still dream about it but...there's a lot I've never spoken about. It started off with me and my brother just wanting something, anything. We wanted to help but we were just kids. Didn't know how. Weren't strong enough. We agreed to the trials without really considering what that meant. They...they made it sound like they had the answer already. They said they had something that would make us strong and quick and give us an advantage. We were desperate for that." Wanda found herself in her head, looking through the memories she'd buried deep.

Natasha said nothing but did take the girl's hand and that was enough.

"We were young and stupid. We thought it would be a quick fix, an injection and then we would be on our way but...it turned out they didn't have the answers. They were making things up and trying them on anybody. They found homeless children on the streets and lured them in with the idea of food and being safe. We...We didn't know how many children had died in there."

Wanda could feel Natasha's own memories surface. Her too not knowing how many children had died in the very place she lived. 

"Nat, if this is going to trigger you..." Wanda said quietly.

"No." Natasha said firmly, shaking her head. "No, I'm good. I promise."

Wanda took a breath and nodded. "Okay. Well...what had originally been one hour and one injection turned into...years. Years of tests and torture and...pain, I guess. I'm not sure if we ever could have escaped but honestly, we didn't try. Over the years, it became our home and even though every day was torture, we had warm food and went to sleep on a bed. We were together. You know what that's like."

Natasha nodded. She remembered how hard she fought for that soup and bread of an evening. How many people, kids, she hurt or killed just for the privilege of that meal, of that bed.

"I couldn't tell you the amount of things they gave us. Like I said, Pietro's powers came in quite quickly. But that serum didn't work for me. Pietro began to train and learn to harness his powers but I was still weak. Still didn't have anything special about me at all."

Natasha frowned. "That's not true."

"I know that now but then, I didn't. Then I was angry. Pissed that I wasn't special yet. That I was weak." Wanda shrugged. "Anyway, every day was pretty much the same. They thought they'd figured out a correlation between the drugs and trauma so after every new drug, they'd beat me and leave me on the floor. Sometimes they'd get promising results so they'd stick to the same drug for weeks on end. They were the hardest to come off of." She said quietly.

Natasha nodded as if she understood and Wanda knew she really really did know.

"Sometimes I would question why I was still there. Why I was still going through the pain. More than once I thought of ending it. You know, when they found me one morning, I'd hidden a needle from one of the sessions. I used it to cut up my arms and they laughed when they saw the blood. That night Pietro held me and told me we should leave. But I wasn't done. Isn't that fucked up? That I wanted to die but I wanted to be special even more? That I went through all of that because I wanted more."

"Not fucked up. Understandable." Natasha said quietly, the barest hint of a weak smile on her face. "Some people spend their whole lives looking for me. Did you find it?"

Wanda tilted her head, humming softly. "I think I did. Just not in the way I thought." She admitted with a small shrug.

"It often happens that way." Natasha murmured, resting her cheek against her hand as she watched the girl.

Wanda offered a smile, turning the cloth over to the cold side. "How do you feel?"

Natasha shook her head. "I don't know. Not great."

Wanda hummed, absently squeezing the hand in her's. "That makes sense. We should probably get you to eat something or there's more chance of you being sick." 

Natasha pulled a face and looked away. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Hey, who's in charge here?" Wanda smirked. "Trust me, Nat, it'll help. Even just a little."

With a soft groan Natasha tipped her head back and stared up at the ceiling. "Do I have to move?"

The question sounded sarcastic but Wanda knew enough now to know Natasha was earnest.

"Nope." Wanda said lightly. "We don't have to go anywhere. Laura bought some stuff up earlier." She shifted on the bed to reach for the items as Natasha half sat herself up. 

"Kinda boring, I'm afraid, but that's the best thing right now. Crackers, ginger ale, some cheese and mints."

"This is the worst party food I've ever seen." Natasha murmured, smiling.

"Yeah. But hey, when you're feeling better you can have some of Laura's pasta. It's...the best pasta I've ever had?"

Natasha sighed softly. "Oh man, tell me about it. Forget the kids, I'm just here for the food.'' She teased.

"Understandable." Wanda laughed softly, handing her the ginger ale and the little plate of cheese and crackers.

"Laura's very thoughtful." The girl pointed out, taking a swig of her own can.

Natasha nodded her agreement, though she didn't touch the food. "She's the best. Always seems to know exactly what I need."

Now Wanda really wanted to know their story. Later, she promised herself.

"So..." Wanda nudged the woman. "She knows what's best for you right now. And that's to eat."

Natasha rolled her eyes and sighed. "Fine, you're probably right."

"Probably? No, I'm definitely right. I'm the boss, remember?"

"How could I forget?" Natasha shook her head and picked up a cracker very gingerly, like it was the end of the world in food form.

"If you keep that down, we can probably get you some pasta..."

"I know you're bribing me but I really don't care. Laura's food is that good." Natasha very slowly began to work her way through the plate of food.

To an untrained eye, the woman would have seemed to have been very entranced by the food but Wanda knew Natasha was getting lost in her own thoughts.

"You know you're safe now, right?" Wanda murmured quietly.

Natasha blinked and put the cracker she'd been holding back down. "Of course."

Wanda raised an eyebrow. "Really, 'cause for the world's best spy, your poker face isn't great."

Wanda knew that was a lie right away. Natasha had the best poker face she'd ever seen, hands down. This meant that Natasha wanted Wanda to see. She was letting her see.

"I just...sure, I know I'm safe now. But it doesn't mean it will stay that way. They knew me and they came after me for a reason. It had something to do with The Red Room and if I know anything, it's that they don't give up." Natasha shrugged.

"Then you should also know that we don't give up. We're not letting them get to you again, Natasha." Wanda said, voice fierce and firm.

Natasha smiled weakly, "that's what friends are for, huh?"

"You're damn right."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: seizures

After urging Natasha to finish at least her crackers, Wanda helped the woman lay down.

It was getting to the point where the redhead was shaking too hard to hold anything anyway but she'd at least had some food to soak up the meds they'd given her.

As Natasha lay down, her pale cheek planted against the pillow, Wanda gently pulled the blanket up over her shoulders.

The girl settled her hand on the woman's forehead before brushing back sticky red strands of hair.

"It's starting properly now, Nat, so I'm gonna need you to try and be open about what you need and if there's anything that can help." Wanda murmured, perching carefully on the edge of the bed.

Natasha shuddered, teeth biting into her lower lip. "I just...want to try and sleep through as much as I can." She whispered, even her teeth chattering and leaving marks in her lip.

Wanda hoped it was possible her friend would be able to sleep through the worst of it, but something in her thought that was very unlikely.

"Alright, well close your eyes then." Wanda hummed, brushing her thumb down the middle of Natasha's eyebrows.

The woman obediently let her eyes slip shut- yet another sign of trust that Wanda hoped she would be able to live up to.

Unfortunately as the girl had suspected would happen, Natasha tossed and turned restlessly for about half an hour before she forced her eyes open and pushed herself into a sitting position.

It was then, looking into those green orbs that Wanda knew something was about to go down.

Ah shit.

Natasha wasn't even looking at her, her eyes were glazed. Her jaw clenched so hard Wanda could see her cheek muscle twitching.

She was off the bed in seconds, pulling the door open and shouting for Clint. 

He must have already been on his way up the stairs because he was there quickly and by the time the two got back into the room, Natasha was seizing.

Wanda moved the the bed, gathering her shaking friend as best as she could so she could quickly pull her down the bed to avoid smacking her head on the headboard.

Clint helped roll her onto her side, not holding onto her but his hands bracing against her back.

Wanda crouched, wincing as she saw blood on the other woman's lips. "Do you have any meds for this?" She grit out as she tried to stop Natasha shaking herself right off the bed.

"Yes." Clint murmured, his face white. "She doesn't like them, they make her fuzzy."

"If she carries on, she's going to feel ten times worse.'' Wanda said quietly, counting silently in her head. She didn't want to have to call out for help, it would make Natasha mentally worse but if the seizure didn't pass soon, they wouldn't have a choice.

Clint nodded and pulled his hands back so Wanda could hold Natasha there instead.

He took off out the room and Wanda was left to just count and try to make sure Natasha didn't hurt herself anymore.

"Alright, Nat, you're alright. You're gonna be fine." She murmured, sure she herself was shaking too. 

It was one thing going through it herself and another to see it happen in front of her. She obviously hadn't been conscious for her own seizures and she'd never actually seen one.

Clint didn't waste any time when he got back, kneeling quickly and pressing the woman's leg down into the mattress.

He expertly slid the needle with the medicine into her uninjured thigh and Wanda had the suspicion it wasn't the first or even the second time he'd done that.

The girl was getting increasingly anxious as her counting began to reach danger levels.

But then, Natasha began to still. She twitched a few times before going slack.

Clint's fingers pressed against the hollow of her neck and Wanda moved her gaze to his face.

"Fast but good." The archer blew out a breath, letting his forehead fall into his hand for just a moment before he pushed himself up.

"Help me get her comfortable." He said quietly and between the two of them, they got her laying on her side under the blankets.

Wanda was relieved the see her friend's eyelids already fluttering.

"Take it easy, love." Clint murmured, calloused fingers stroking through Natasha's hair.

With a soft moan, the woman let her gaze slide open.

Her eyes were still glazed but this time Wanda knew she wasn't about to go down.

Grimacing, Natasha's tongue darted out to lick her lower lip. "Ow." She murmured hoarsely.

"Yeah, I bet." Wanda hummed sympathetically. "Once you're a little more awake, I'll help clean your mouth out. It's all bloody, huh?"

Natasha hummed, wincing again as she tried to twist her head to find Clint.

"Stay still." The archer chided softly, thumb rubbing over her cheek. "You know it takes a while before you can move properly."

"You've done this a lot, haven't you?" Wanda asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Clint nodded, eyes never once leaving Natasha. "More than I like to think about." He murmured.

"Comes with the job." Natasha mumbled thickly, lifting a trembling hand to wipe at her mouth.

"Then I stand by my earlier statement of you both being impossible." Wanda forced a small smile.

"Mm." Natasha hummed, still looking very much out of it.

"Come on, love, have some water." Clint said softly, gently pressing the time of the cup to her lips.

After a few gulps, Natasha exhaled shakily. "Thanks."

"Course, Tash. What can I do?" He asked, back stroking through her hair.

"Don't know." The woman breathed, brows furrowed. "Man, I hate them."

Wanda wasn't sure if she was talking about seizures or the people who had taken her, but the girl knew either was fair.

"I know." Clint murmured, smiling softly. "We have this."

Natasha seemed to believe him at least. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Wanda reiterated. "We definitely do."

Or maybe they definitely did not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this new chapter. This is gonna be a long fic now whoops. Leave a comment maybe? Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: vomiting 
> 
> Sestra- sister in Russian

The next few hours passed in a haze for Natasha. The hours dragged on for her, feeling more like days, as she lay there, shuddering desperately and completely unable to sleep.

The meds she'd been given to try and ease the symptoms seemed to not really touch her or do much of anything.

Clint explained that Natasha's body had grown resistant to some drugs, like how using antibiotics too much meant they ended up not working properly.

He also told Wanda that one time, she'd been shot up with three whole tranq darts and had only been a little woozy as she'd carried on with her job.

Impossible.

Natasha had also started feeling so sick to her stomach that she was reluctant to even open her mouth in case her stomach rebelled.

After the seizure, Clint had decided to stay in the room and at the moment, he currently had Natasha's head in his lap.

It was hard to even get her to stay in one place, she was shaking so hard Wanda was sure she'd end up shaking herself right off the side of the bed.

The girl spent most of the time either pulling blankets over the woman or pulling them off. She also used a cloth to meticulously wipe down her friend's face and neck as Natasha's feverish eyes followed her every move.

The woman felt so terrible that she couldn't even find it in her to stroke the kitten that refused to leave the room.

Even though Natasha couldn't sleep, her eyes were often shut, since the energy it took to keep them open was often energy she didn't have.

Wanda and Clint spent a lot of the time talking, though it was mainly the former listening.

Clint spoke about past missions and stories from their past that wouldn't be traumatic for Natasha to hear again.

Wanda finally learned about the infamous Budapest mission and how neither of them were actually able to agree on where they'd been or how long they'd been gone or why they had duffle bags full of random objects. When they'd traipsed into Shield, 5 weeks after they were supposed to return, Phil had just shook his head at them and called the mission Budapest. They were still not quite sure what had happened.

"So whenever any newbie asks us what happened, we come up with a different story every time. And any of them could be right, honestly, we have no clue." Clint grinned, fingers pulling through Natasha's hair.

"You were gonna for what, eight weeks? And you still don't know? Fucking hell, guys, what am I supposed to do with you?" Wanda groaned, though there was a bemused smile on her face. 

"You'll get used to this, kid. I'm a notorious fucking mess and it's a well kept secret that Natasha isn't much better." Clint hummed, gaze soft as he looked down at the redhead.

"Take that back.'' Natasha mumbled, the first thing she'd said in a while. Wanda hadn't even been sure if she was listening.

"I will absolutely not take that back." The archer murmured. "Don't make me tell Wanda about Rome."

"Rome?" Wanda raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, probably a story for another time. Nat tells it way better than I do." Clint chuckled softly.

Wanda got the feeling that if Natasha had felt well enough, she would have either rolled her eyes or smacked the back of Clint's head. Or honestly, probably both.

As light as they were trying to keep the atmosphere, it was hard to get around the fact that Natasha was suffering so badly. So almost simultaneously Clint and Wanda's smiled dropped.

"How are you feeling, Nat?" Wanda asked softly.

Natasha didn't talk, only shook her head just a little in answer, lips pressed tightly together.

"Not able to sleep yet, love?" Clint murmured, pressing the back of his hand to the woman's head to check her temperature. 

"Mmm." Another shake of her head.

Clint hummed sympathetically, tucking sweaty hair behind her ear. "Anything else we can do?"

Natasha's eyes had slipped shut and Wanda thought maybe she actually had fallen asleep. But it lasted only a few moments and then it became clear that something else was happening.

As Natasha tried to push herself up, her weak arms just collapsed. Her eyes were still clamped shut and she'd gone from flushed to very very pale.

Wanda was very quickly moving for the trash can beside the bed, lifting it up as Clint shifted Natasha forward so her head was over the can.

They'd made it just in time to avoid a minor disaster. 

Natasha shuddered as her stomach rebelled and she was left heaving over the side of the bed, her fingers digging so hard into the covers it seemed like she'd never be able to let go.

Wanda gathered Natasha's hair into her hand, resting her other against the woman's neck. Pink seeped from her fingers as the magic gently held Natasha's head up so she didn't hurt herself.

Clint rubbed at the woman's back, murmuring softly to her in Russian. Wanda could understand quite a bit of it and the girl's chest warmed at what Clint was saying.

"It'll pass." Wanda whispered, gently rubbing Natasha's neck as the woman retched and dry heaved, literally nothing left in her to throw up anymore.

"Just breathe, sestra." The girl murmured, "nice and easy."

Exchanging a look with Clint, Wanda could see that the archer was trying very hard to hide his distress, but she could feel the emotions rolling off him in waves, could feel the twisting of his thoughts.

Knowing she was prying where she probably wasn't wanted, Wanda pulled her gaze back to the trembling woman in front of her.

The dry heaving seemed to have passed so she and Clint both got Natasha back onto the bed properly, lowering her head down to the pillow.

Clint was gentle as he brushed her hair off her forehead, touch lingering on her skin. It was clear how much he loved her and how much seeing her like that pained him.

"You two have told me a lot of stories. How about I return the favor?" Wanda hummed, once more trying to lighten the room. She shuffled up the bed until she was sitting besides Natasha.

The redhead looked at her and the exhaustion was clear on her pained features.

"Now, I don't have any real stories, but I think you'll like this one anyway." Wanda said softly. "Okay?"

Clint hummed, "good by me. Nat gets tired of my voice anyway." He nudged the woman ever so gently.

"Then it's a relief for everyone." Wanda teased, laughing as Clint put his hand to his chest and pretended to be affroanted.

"You know that doesn't work on me." Wanda grinned over at him.

Clint sighed heavily, lips twitching. "Fine. Go on with your story."

"Thank you for the permission." Wanda rolled her eyes, even earning a tiny smile from Natasha.

"Fine. Okay, so, once upon a time..."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Long time no see. Things with my health and life right now are not great so I'm writing if i ever feel up to it. It took me about 4 separate days to write this and I hope you like it. I definitely do.
> 
> Some Wanda angst to switch things up!
> 
> TW:panic attack
> 
> Translations:  
Sestra - sister  
Lyubov' - love

With Natasha's mind somewhat occupied during the story, the three managed to get a few things done.

Firstly, they'd managed to help Natasha brush her teeth because..._ick._ Secondly, though it had been pretty damn difficult, they'd gotten her into some of her spare comfy clothes she left there too. Lastly, somehow Natasha had been able to get to sleep.

Wanda kept talking until her and Clint were absolutely sure the redhead was properly asleep. They let the comfortable silence fill the air for a little while.

Letting out a soft sigh, Wanda tipped her head back against the bed frame, letting her eyes shut for just a moment. 

"You okay?" Clint asked quietly, his gaze watching her intently as he absently fiddled with Natasha's hand.

"I'm good." Wanna nodded after a beat, deciding as soon as that came out that it didn't actually feel right. "I mean...technically, I'm good. I just...I hate this? Seeing Natasha sick and scared and...her emotions are so strong I can't help but be pulled into her head. I want to bring those bastards back to life just so I can rip them apart myself." Even Wanda herself was taken aback at the ferocity of that statement.

For his part though, Clint seemed nonplussed at what she'd said and it wasn't hard to guess that he was thinking exactly the same kinda thing. Except in his ideal world, they would all have arrows sticking through them.

In fact, Clint only hummed and dropped his gaze. "I understand that. I...can't imagine what it's like to see that from Nat's point of view. Sometimes I wish I could, so I would know exactly how she was feeling but..." the archer trailed off and shook his head. "Any way, I didn't thank you for calling me."

Wanda could tell the sudden subject change was because they'd been getting too close to something Clint didn't want to talk about, so the girl went along with it.

"Why are you thanking me? I called because I was freaking out and had literally no idea what to do." Wanda shook her head. 

"Freaking out, maybe, but you seemed to know exactly what you were doing." Clint hummed, sitting back in his chair. He looked mildly thoughtful. "Why do you think she came home, kid?"

Instantly confused, Wanda tilted her head and frowned. "Because she wanted to...I don't get the question?"

"Why come to the compound? She came from fucking Russia, she could have gone anywhere. To Maria, here, any country she wanted. Instead she came back to you."

"She...she was probably hoping someone else would be here." Wanda was struggling to understand what Clint was trying to say. "Steve or Bucky or Tony. Why would she come to me?"

"Do you really not see, kid?" Even Clint was frowning now. "She trusts you. And God knows how hard it is for her to let that happen. She loves you and you're family. Why would she not come to you?"

"I..." Wanda stammered, rubbing at her temples. She couldn't tell if her head was hurting or if she was getting some of Natasha's residual pain. "Because I'm shit at the medical stuff? Because she's known everyone else a lot longer. Because, again, I have no idea what I'm doing? Nat probably only came home because she didn't want to come here and scare the kids." The girl shrugged.

"That's probably part of it, no doubt, but not the whole story. Nat doesn't realize how many friends she's got, right, and the thing is I think she's scared of connecting to people on a deep level. Out of all the friends she's got, few know a lot about her past. I do, Laura does, Maria knows, and so do you. She doesn't let just anyone see that stuff, kid."

Wanda swallowed, suddently very interested in staring at her nails and picking at the chipped polish there. Nat would have to do them again, the girl noted absently. After a few moments of silence, Wanda looked up at the archer.

"She didn't mean for me to see, though. I got pulled into her, I violated her mind and saw things I should never have seen. I couldn't control my powers and Nat was defenceless when asleep. It was...an accident." She shrugged.

The girl hated how that felt. Believing that their friendship had been an accident, that she had stumbled upon something that should never have been hers. Had she manipulated Natasha? Not consciously, she would never do that, not again, but had she? Had she somehow gotten into Natasha's mind and twisted? Forced her to open up? Wormed her way in? Was she controlling her? Oh Gods, she hadn't thought about that, but what if-

"Wanda, hey-" 

The girl blinked her way back to the present, confused at first as to why various items were floating around the room. Until she noticed the pink swirls surrounding them.

Shame, guilt, and sadness punched Wanda so ferociously in the gut that she thought she might be sick too. She was supposed to have it under control. Natasha had-

"Look at me." The voice speaking now wasn't Clint and Wanda forced her panicked, tear filled eyes, to move to the redheaded woman tucked up in blankets.

"Easy, sestra." Natasha breathed, very slowly reaching for one of the girl's hands. Pink still cascaded around the room and the objects had yet to fall down from the air.

"Deep breath." Natasha said softly, squeezing her hand and demonstrating for the girl as Wanda began to hyperventilate, shuddering with the force of her breaths.

"Just like this, okay? You're okay, this is okay. Just breathe and ground yourself." Natasha shuffled a little closer so she could take Wanda's other hand.

The girl exhaled shakily, a few tears dropping down her cheeks as she tried to catch frantic breaths. She was fucking it all up, maybe it was too late, she'd taken Natasha's mind, she was a monster and-

Something smashed in Wanda's peripheral, shards of whatever it was flying around the room with a loud crash.

Clint flinched but to her credit, Natahsa remained still and calm, urging Wanda to look at her. 

"Whatever's happening, lyubov', we can talk through and sort it out, okay? But first, we need to make sure you're safe." Natasha offered an encouraging smile.

Wanda let out a soft little whimper at that. She'd just broken something that could have seriously hurt Clint and Natasha and the redhead was worried about her safety.

She didn't deserve these people in her life.

Natasha was sick, really sick, Wanda could see how much she was shaking, how pale she was, but she was still helping.

Struggling to build her barriers back up, Wanda couldn't help but be pulled in by her friend's minds. 

Clint's thoughts were rushed and fast, calculating how best to help, whether he should stay quiet or move closer.

Natasha's were hazy and the girl could tell right away that the redhead was blocking most of her thoughts. She had done it before, sometimes if Wanda had been pulled in by something awful, but mainly if the woman wanted to protect Wanda. The girl could tell the latter was true here.

Thoughts were harder to read than feelings. Feelings were smoother, clearer, easier. There were so many feelings, emotions, in such a small space. Worry prevailed and rang the loudest, coming from both of the other occupants in the room and, to Wanda's surprise, Laura, all the way downstairs. The shattering object must have been loud.

Despite all the emotions engulfing the girl, she didn't feel, couldn't see the one she'd been most afraid of; fear.

A cold hand touched her cheek and Wanda was pulled from her own swirling thoughts once more.

It was so difficult to not get lost in her head, especially when things were so fucking loud.

"Look at me." Natasha said softly, her thumb brushing over Wanda's cheek.

In a corner of her mind, Wanda heard Clint make up his mind. He shuffled forward, calloused fingers rubbing and down her back. 

Natasha smiled at him before glancing up at the objects floating. They'd begun to tremor, and no one knew if that was because they were about to be set down or if they were about to break. Not even Wanda knew.

_Focus. _

_Focus on Natasha. She's gotten you through this before. She trusts you. You won't hurt them._

"That's it." Natasha coaxed, squeezing the girl's hand. "You can do it. You can control it. You are not a danger to us."

A funny little smile crossed Clint's face and Wanda could feel the love pouring out of him at the realisation that Natasha was using the grounding techniques he had done with her.

"We're just at the farm, with Clint and Laura and the kids. You won't hurt anyone, okay, sestra? Just breathe."

Wanda inhaled, wanting to close her eyes against the emotions but knowing she daren't get lost in her head again. One broken object was enough.

Slowly, Wanda's breathing began to slow, her shoulders loosened and the objects began to lower.

"You're doing so good." Clint murmured, still rubbing her back. Warmth seeped into her from that touch.

"So good." Natasha reiterated, her eyes full of admiration. "Nearly there."

As soon as the objects returned to their rightful places, Wanda let out a sob, shuddering and dropping her face into her hands.

Without hesitation, the archer and the spider gathered the girl between them, wrapping her in warmth and love, and Wanda let them in.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like it!!!
> 
> Malyshka - baby (in Russian)  
Llyuby - darling (in Ukranian)  
Sestra - sister (Russian + Ukranian)

Wanda felt like a child again. With Natasha's fingers carding through her hair, Clint's hand on her back, their soft voices full of warmth and love and all the things Wanda thought she would never have again after...Pietro.

The girl wasn't entirely sure why she was crying. No one was hurt, not by her hand at least, and she was at least semi-sure she wasn't actually controlling Natasha. But still, she couldn't stop crying.

"It's okay, malyshka." Natasha murmured, her voice still rough and low. 

Wanda felt the guilt in her immediately come springing back, like a punch to her stomach.

Natasha was sick. She needed to sleep, not take care of a woman who wasn't even sure why she was upset in the first place.

"It's been a long day and by all accounts, a kinda scary one for someone who's new to all this." Clint murmured. 

"And for those who aren't new." Natasha murmured, thumb rubbing over the furrow in Clint's brows. "I'm sorry."

Clint frowned at the same time Wanda lifted her head from her hands.

"What're you talking about, Nat? You don't need to be sorry for anything." Clint shook his head.

"I just..." Whatever Natasha had been about to say died on her lips and she shrugged before clasping her hands in her lap.

Wanda rubbed at her eyes and cheeks with her sleeve, sniffling a little. "I wasn't upset because you're hurt or going through a shitty time, Nat. It's not your fault I get like this. And you don't need to apologise for being hurt, that's absurd?"

Natasha tried to smile, shrugging again. Something behind her eyes worried Wanda. "Yeah, I know. I'm just being stupid. Withdrawal makes me sensitive." 

"Not stupid. Never stupid." Clint chided softly. "Do you wanna lay down again?" He murmured, reaching to rest the back of his hand against Natasha's forehead.

"I know I'm hot." The redhead sighed softly.

"You're always hot," Clint quipped, "but you are warmer than I'd like."

Natasha groaned, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples. "You're going to make me have a bath, aren't you?"

"I mean I'm gonna lightly suggest you have a bath." Clint smiled crookedly. "Wanda, however, might be more commanding."

Rolling her still watery eyes, Wanda hummed. "It could help. It could also trigger you since it'll have to be colder water. So it's really up to how you feel."

Clint looked between the women and Wanda was reminded that he hadn't seen what she had. Natasha hadn't been well enough to tell him the whole story and it wasn't Wanda's to tell. 

"I...have no idea." Natasha blew out a breath.

"We could try with cloths or ice packs. We can avoid any places that are more likely to trigger you." Clint said softly.

Natasha smiled shakily and nodded. "I think that would be better." 

Clint smiled back and made to hop off the bed, glancing at the bedside clock. 

"Shit, is it that late already?" Natasha sighed.

"Before you start apologising or feeling bad, I already put the kids to bed and you literally stayed awake with me for four days straight before." Clint raised an eyebrow, daring her to argue.

Natasha looked over to Wanda.

"Don't look at me, you know I suck at going to sleep at a regular time anyway." The girl shrugged.

"When did you two start ganging up on me?" The redhead sighed. "It's really not fair, I'm sick." 

Clint laughed softly, "don't give me those sad eyes, Romanoff, they don't work on me."

"Yes they do." Both Natasha and Wanda said immediately, high fiving one another at the expression on Clint's face. 

"Now who's ganging up on who?" Clint hummed, arms crossed over his chest, lips pulled into a smile. "Try not to conspire against me when I'm off getting your ice packs."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Clint." Wanda offered with a smirk.

"I'm watching you, kid."

Natasha smiled and watched as Clint left before turning to Wanda. The woman examined the younger girl's face for a moment.

"I'm going to hug you again, okay?" They'd talked about boundaries a lot, Wanda knew she could say no and Natasha would understand and be good with that. 

But actually...that sounded nice.

Wanda nodded, exhaling shakily as Natasha shuffled forward, wrapping her arms around her. The girl ended up with her head against Nat's shoulder as the redhead stroked through her hair.

"Are you feeling any better, llyuby?" She asked softly.

Wanda hummed, "I think so, at least a bit."

"You know I'm here if you need to talk, right? About anything, Sestra."

"I know, Nat." Wanda murmured, glad her face was hidden. "I just...I started thinking about..." she didn't need to say what she was thinking about for Natasha to know.

"I...you've been so good to me and so patient and nice and you made me feel worthy and strong and...it's everything I could ever want wrapped up in one person so I started thinking what if...I was controlling you. Again. And you were being so good to me because I...I was making you."

"Wanda-" Natasha's voice was pained as she pulled back, only so she could cup the girl's face instead. "You wouldn't do that. I understand why it happened and I forgave you, kid, you know I get it."

"What if it's an accident?" Wanda whispered. "I wouldn't do it on purpose but my powers...I still don't know the full extent of them, I could be-"

"No you couldn't be." Natasha said firmly, thumb brushing over the girl's cheek when a tear began to roll down it. "You're not." She murmured, softer this time.

"How do you know?" Wanda croaked out, wanting desperately to believe her.

"Because I've been controlled before. My entire childhood was me being controlled, following orders, not allowed to have my own thoughts. That is not happening here. I'm kind to you because you deserve kindness and because you're my friend. Because I love you. You don't see how great you are, kid. You don't see how worthy you are of every bit of kindness and love you receive. Okay? I promise you are not controlling me. I make the choices I make."

Wanda swallowed, hiccuping weakly. "Oh-" she whispered. 

"Anyway," Natasha laughed, a little wetly, "I did warn you I get all sensitive."

"Sensitive isn't bad, Nat." Wanda sniffled.

"Maybe we should try and practice what we preach, huh?"

"Probably." Wanda agreed readily, this time returning the hug fiercely. 

"I love you too, Nat."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you think I'm dragging this out or making things happen too slowly. I'm just really enjoying their friendship but not sure if I should stop soon and continue their story in another fic 🤷♀️ or lemme know if you like the pace and detail ☺ Ily guys❤


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Long time no see (eh, not that long for me but) I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Here comes the angst oooh boyyyy
> 
> TW's: violence, like quite a lot of violence, unintentional self harm, minor blood, flashbacks/PTSD/anxiety/panic attack/ mind regression etc etc all the usual from me, drug mentions, torture mentions
> 
> Sestra is sister in Russian and Ukranian and I think that's it so let's get on with it!

Natasha may have been running a fever, but it became obvious pretty quickly that that wasn’t the most pressing problem. Apart from the nightmare earlier, nearly everything major Natasha had been dealing with had been physical.

But now, as the girls waited for Clint, Wanda could feel the atmosphere shift. It hadn’t been sudden, had been building for god knows how long but the shift from building to suddenly, in your face, fully there, had been quick.

The redhead was good at hiding her thoughts but at that moment, it was if Natasha didn’t have the wherewithal to try to disguise her racing mind from Wanda.

The agent had been surprisingly lucid most of the time, Wanda remembered Pietro having to help her. How after, he would tell her how she didn’t recognise him sometimes, how she saw shapes and figures, went catatonic for hours on end. He told her how she’d been confused more often than not, never really that present in their cell for days when she came off a drug.

Natasha was shaking.

“You’re okay, Nat.” Wanda murmured cautiously, trying to get a read on what exactly was happening.

The woman didn’t answer her, which was worrying for sure. “You’re just at Clint’s, he’s gonna be back any minute. Wherever you are in your head right now, I promise it’s not real, not anymore. You’re safe.”

A shudder ran through Natasha, so forceful that for a brief second, Wanda thought she was having another seizure. But instead, the woman pushed herself back so abruptly she nearly slammed her head against the wall. A panicked, frenzied breath escaped her lips as Natasha’s hands curled around her knees. She was just starting to dig her nails into them when Clint got back.

Wanda was reaching, trying to decide if she should risk pulling Natasha’s hands away so she didn’t accidentally hurt herself, or whether that would make everything worse.

As soon as the bedroom door clicked open, Wanda knew something bad was about to happen. At the same time Clint stepped into the room, Natasha’s thoughts collected themselves, just not in the way anyone would have wanted.

_Danger. She was in danger. They’d drugged her and she couldn’t let them do it again, she had to stop them. Had to get out. Had to get home._

_Get out get out get out get out_

_Move!_

Natasha flew from the bed. Ice ran through Wanda’s veins at the tone of Natasha’s thoughts, at the certainty in her mind that she was in immediate danger, that Clint was a threat, coming to hurt her again.

Clint, mouth open, about to say something, swore under his breath as soon as Natasha moved from the bed.

The archer made no move to stop the woman, not yet, just threw the ice packs and towels he’d been carrying on the floor as Natasha advanced.

In seconds, she had her arm across his throat and was slamming him into one of the walls. The cabinet beside them shook, trinkets falling to lay at their feet.

A growl, not un-animal like in nature, ripped itself from Natasha’s throat, as her arm pressed hard enough against the expanse of Clint’s throat to halt his breathing.

Wanda didn’t understand how Clint could stand there and not fight, his face was red, body trembling with the need for air, but he still didn’t touch her. His not quite panicked but getting there gaze slid past Natasha’s shoulder to Wanda.

The girl, sick to her stomach, panicking more than even Clint was, stood from the bed. She made her voice loud and clear, pink shining at her fingers, just in case. “Natasha, stop! You’re not there, it’s Clint and you’re hurting him. You need to stop.”

The redhead didn’t even flinch and Wanda saw the moment the panic fully hit Clint. They couldn’t wait and see if they could talk Natasha out of this one, not anymore.

Pain, that Wanda knew had nothing to do with the fact he couldn’t breathe or the arm across his throat, filled Clint’s features, seconds before he fought back. He didn’t want to hurt her. It wasn’t her fault. But she did need to be stopped.

That ice never left Wanda’s system, filling her blood, encasing her heart, freezing her lungs. Bile rising in her throat, trembling with anxiety, Wanda turned her hands to the woman who had given her everything.

Pink swirls flew towards Natasha and in less than a second, the tendrils were dragging the woman away from Clint, who dropped to his knees, coughing and gasping.

Natasha tried to struggle, shouting out Russian curses. She hated being restrained. Wanda wasn’t sure if the guilt would ever leave her.

The girl pulled Natasha to another wall, stepping towards her in the hopes seeing her face would help Natasha come back.

Instead, it only made her struggle more. Except this time, she wasn’t angry, she was panicking. Scratching at the tendrils around her arms would never help get her free from the power, but it would get her free from Wanda.

Because the moment Wanda saw blood being drawn, she faltered, just for a second. But Natasha had done more with less time and she was now intently focused on Wanda.

Heaving, shuddering, desperate breaths left Natasha as she stalked forward. She never made it to Wanda.

Clint intercepted before Natasha was even close enough to touch the girl. Teeth gritted, still breathless, bruises on his skin, the archer brought Natasha to the floor.

They fought for what felt like hours, in Wanda’s mind, but had actually only been thirty seconds at most. Clint had Natasha pinned, his weight across her lower half, hands around her wrists, pushing them against the floor. They were both panting, Natasha was staring straight up at Clint, mouth moving but no sounds coming out.

“I know.” Clint murmured, his voice hoarse and scratchy. It was then Wanda realized that the archer was lip reading. They conversed like that for a minute or so before Clint very slowly started to ease up on how he was holding her.

He first let go of one wrist, then the other, then slid carefully onto the floor and off of her legs.

Wanda, having not wanted to intrude for fears of making Natasha feel worse, finally moved forwards. For a few moments everything was calm. Clint tried to catch his breath, Natasha tried to re-orientate herself, Wanda tried to calm her racing heart.

Natasha didn’t fight anymore. If nothing else, she seemed to realize that Clint wasn’t a threat. But that was about all Natasha had figured out. She was still so panicked, so convinced something bad was about to happen, so full of dread, that what happened moments later was inevitable.

Fight or flight. She’d chosen fight, now it was time to fly.

Before Clint or Wanda could react, Natasha was up on her feet and moving towards the door.

The pair jumped after her immediately, but were unable to stop Natasha leaving the room. She moved so fast down the stairs that neither stood a chance of stopping her at the moment. The front door was ripped open and Natasha was running across the grass before anyone had a chance to even pull in a breath.

They weren’t going to catch her. Not on foot, not like that.

“Wanda!” Clint shouted, as the pair watched Natasha run as if her life depended on it. To the redhead, it did depend on it.

“I’m sorry.” Wanda whispered, heart breaking. “I’m really sorry, Nat.” She breathed, wishing she could close her eyes. But she couldn’t. Pink shot out from the girl’s fingertips, taking less than a second to reach Natasha.

The tendrils wrapped around her and with a small little sob, Wanda pulled her hands back.

Natasha was immediately pulled to the ground, feet flying out from under her, landing in a heap, pink magic keeping her to the floor once more.

Clint reached Natasha first, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around Natasha from behind. His chin sat against her shoulder, arms around her stomach, legs around her waist, like a koala bear.

Wanda let the powers dissipate as she too, got down on the muddy ground. She shuffled until she hit Natasha’s knees, taking the woman’s hands in her own. 

Natasha let out a broken sob, body shaking so harshly it was hard to keep a hold on her, breaths so frantic Wanda didn’t know how she hadn’t ran out of air and passed out.

“You’re okay. You’re okay, sweetheart, just try and breathe. It’s just me, no one is going to hurt you.” Clint murmured, absently swinging them from side to side in a rocking motion.

“You’re safe, sestra, just look at me.” Wanda urged, squeezing the hands in hers. “You can do it, just take a slow breath, okay? You’re safe.”

Another sob escaped Natasha’s lips, then another, and another, until the redhead was full on sobbing. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks, teeth biting into the tender skin of her lips.

A low, keening moan came from the woman as she dropped her head forward. She ended up with her head on Wanda’s knees, Clint still hugging her from the back. 

“Not safe.” The woman whispered brokenly. “No one is safe.”

Clint and Wanda exchanged a quiet look.

“Why is no one safe, Nat?” The archer asked softly.

Natasha shuddered, shaking her head rapidly, “they’re coming to get me-“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorrrrrry. hope to see you next time! maybe drop a comment, ily :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOOOOOOO GUYS hi the world is a mess rn and so am iiiiii but no one is surprised
> 
> Hope you enjoy, sorry it took so long!
> 
> Lot's of trigger warnings whoops: past self harm/suicide attempt, panic, bad thoughts, mentions of blood and again past self harm/suicide attempt
> 
> ily guys stay safe <3

No one was very sure how long they’d been out on the grass. The whole ordeal, from Natasha walking into the compound to where they were now had seemed like forever but had in fact not been very long at all. It had actually only been a couple of days, just a couple of days that had been packed full of enough pain for a lifetime.

But not just pain, Wanda realized as she trailed her fingers through Natasha’s now mud splattered hair. It had been full of pain, but also full of love and warmth and bonding and all things the girl had believed she would never experience again. The three had grown close. Clint and Natasha had opened to her, let her in, shared things Wanda didn’t entirely think she was worthy of knowing.

Clint’s past, how he lost half his hearing, about his brother and the circus and the redheaded stray that had changed his life forever. Wanda had known some about The Red Room, if only from the nightmares Natasha had and Wanda absorbed whilst asleep, but she now knew more than she thought the rest of the team did.

Wanda knew about the fire that had engulfed the woman’s home and prison, about the hopelessness of Natasha’s life at the time Clint barged his way in. How she’d began to fight him with everything she had before just…stopping, sliding to her knees and bowing her head as if preparing herself for execution. 

And they knew about her past. About the experiments and her twin and how they’d been orphaned just like Natasha and Clint had been. They knew that Wanda still woke up screaming, that there was still half of her heart gone, buried in the ground with Pietro. They knew her overwhelming guilt and self-hate could cripple her, how their brief alliance with Ultron made Wanda so guilty she didn’t think she deserved anything good for the rest of her life.

So yes, there had been a lot of pain and there would be a lot of pain the come, it was the nature of the lives they had signed up for. But there was also love and acceptance and unity.

It wasn’t all bad.

…

As the sun began to climb higher, all three sat on the ground began to feel uncomfortable- it was getting hot and all of them were splattered with mud that was now drying all over their clothes. Not only that, but the kids would probably soon be running out the door to go help with the farm and play and no one wanted them to see what had happened.

Despite it being clear that Natasha really did not want to move or get up at all, she began to slowly pull herself away from the pair and clamber up to her feet. A wince pulled at the woman’s lips, her fingers absently rubbing at her thigh. Her fingers came away wet with blood and as soon as it registered in Wanda’s mind what had happened, she got so nauseous she actually had to bend over and grip her knees in an attempt to stop herself throwing up.

“Woah, kid, hey-“ Clint steadied her, hand on her shoulder as the girl tried to breathe through her nose and not fucking spiral.

_Again._

Natasha, still fuzzy, blinked for a few seconds, frowning as she moved back towards Wanda. “Let’s sit back down a minute.” She said softly, more clear than before for sure.

Wanda’s legs felt like jello anyway so she probably would have ended up on her ass if she hadn’t sat down. Clint gently guided her face down to her knees as Natasha sank down beside them.

The redhead gingerly and cautiously moved her hand towards the girl, hovering over her for a few seconds before slowly dropping to Wanda’s head. She gently brushed fingers through brown hair that had somehow gotten very tangled. “Wanda?” 

“’M fine.” The girl mumbled woozily, supporting her head with her palm, “Jus’ got a little sick.”

Clearly that was not the whole truth. 

“What happened?” Clint asked quietly, able to tell from years of experience when sickness was cause by a physical or mental problem.

Wanda at first tried to back out of the conversation, shut it down. The pair would know it wasn’t physical even if she told them it was but if she lied, they would get the hint and drop it. She didn’t want Natasha to feel worse, to feel even more guilty than she would when she fully realized what she’d done to Clint. She hadn’t been going to tell them, had firmly made her mind up about that. But apparently her mouth had not wanted to listen because before she could even clamp her lips shut, she was talking.

“I saw the blood.” Wanda whispered, squeezing her eyes shut as a small shudder moved through her. 

Natasha blinked, present but very dazed. “What blood?”

Wanda weakly lifted her head, “Nat, look at your hand.” 

Confused green eyes flicked from Wanda’s face to the woman’s hand. Natasha twisted her wrist, brows furrowing as she pressed the bloodied fingers together. “I don’t know where that came from.”

The girl swallowed the lump in her throat, eyes watery and voice already apologetic. “Your leg. You touched your leg and you’re bleeding so your stitches have ripped and it’s my fault. I made you fall down and it must’ve happened then. I didn’t mean to, I was just…I didn’t want…fuck-“ 

“Hey, kid, take a breath.” Clint said softly but firmly, tenderly tucking a fallen strand of hair behind the girl’s ear. Natasha always loved that, and so did Lila so doing the motion with Wanda too felt right. In the middle of an emotional moment, in the middle of panicking, the smallest touches, the tiniest gestures of support and comfort, could mean so much.

Wanda inhaled shakily, squeezing her eyes together. Her eyes burned with the possibility of tears but somehow, her powers were under control. Her fingers, pressed to her forehead, were not swirling with pink, she wasn’t vibrating with the need to let her powers run free.

She took another breath, slower this time. Once it was clear that Wanda was calmer, Natasha got a little closer. She gently dropped her forehead to the girl’s shoulder, silent for a few seconds as she tried to get her addled brain to sort through the information in front of her.

“You did what you had to do.” Natasha said quietly, not lifting her face from Wanda’s shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed with the fever sure, but more with shame, guilt, embarrassment. “I…I don’t know if I would’ve stopped running. I needed a shock, I needed something to stop me before things got even worse. You did that.”

The redhead shuddered, her hands firmly clasped together. The weight of what had happened began to settle in, and it wasn’t just Wanda feeling the weight of the guilt.

“Fuck.” The woman whispered, unable to stop shaking now that she had started. “Fuck.” 

“Nat…” Clint said, voice a little wary and unfortunately, still raspy. At the tone of his voice, at the hoarseness, Natasha seemed to curl more into herself.

“I shouldn’t have come here.” Natasha said weakly, one hand sliding into her hair, fingers tangling in the strands. “I’m a danger to everyone, to…to the kids. It was irresponsible at best, selfish, I shouldn’t-“

“Don’t.” Clint said lowly, shaking his head even though Natasha still had her face hidden. “Don’t say that. You know what could’ve happened if you were alone. You might not even be here to see the kids anymore.”

“But they would be safe.” She whispered, and Wanda could feel that the shoulder of her shirt was getting damp underneath Natasha’s head. “Everyone would be safe, I’m a-“

Clint cut her off before she could even finish. He knew how that sentence was about to end, because she had uttered those words before, and he was not about to let her say them again. “Stop.” His voice was firm once again, but an underlying softness ran through everything he said.

“That’s not going to help, you know it’s not.” Clint looked across at Wanda, all but holding Natasha up. Natasha may have been stopped before saying that last word, but it echoed in the woman’s head regardless and Wanda couldn’t help but hear.

_Monster._

“No.” Wanda uttered, tone so ferocious and concrete that it surprised even Wanda herself. Natasha had been so surprised that she’d lifted her head, red rimmed eyes focused only on the girl’s face. She didn’t say anything, didn’t need to.

“I know you can’t help thinking it. You can’t help what you think and how you feel, can’t ever stop those thoughts from surfacing but I’m sorry, no. Your brain is lying to you, that’s what it does. You are not what your mind is telling you you are. Absolutely not, no chance. Listen to me, Nat, it’s wrong. A monster doesn’t feel guilty for bad things that happen, a monster doesn’t sit there and cry and think the world would be better without them.”

A funny look crossed Clint’s face, his skin paling as what Wanda said had registered. “Please don’t.” He whispered, barely able to get the words out. “Nat, please, you can’t.”

“I wasn’t…” Natasha swallowed and shook her head. “I wasn’t going to do anything about it. I wasn’t going to…I wasn’t.”

Wanda was somewhat reassured by the thoughts in Natasha’s head at that moment. She really hadn’t been planning on doing anything reckless or impulsive, the thought may have been there but she was in control. She wasn’t going to listen, not again.

Clint looked close to tears, and his teeth were clenched tight together, even grating a little and the intensity of his thoughts flooded into Wanda so quickly she had to fight to even breathe. He’d learned a lot after Loki, had learned how to conceal things more, but he wasn’t as good at it as Natasha, Wanda had never met anyone who was.

_It was dark in the building Clint stepped in to. Things were so quiet that for a moment, he thought he’d messed up tracking Natasha, that this wasn’t where she actually was. But his gut pulled him in the direction of the dirty and half demolished staircase instead of back out the door._

_He knew he’d been right when he saw the first drops of blood. Without hesitation, he pushed the broken down door open, sick to his stomach, heart racing. He saw her right away, even in the dark, the only light from the moon outside, she was impossible to miss._

_So was all the blood. He stepped forward, not even knowing if she was alive, not even knowing if-_

Wanda had forgotten how to breathe. Pulling in air felt impossible, her wide eyes looked up at Natasha’s face and before she even knew what she was doing, she was pulling the redhead to her chest.

Her arms wrapped around the trembling woman, clinging to her. And Natasha clung just as tightly back. Wanda was pretty sure all three of them were crying, for a whole host of different reasons, but Wanda knew why she herself was crying.

She whispered against Natasha’s hair.

“Thank you for being alive.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, I'm sorry. Hope this chapter is good.
> 
> TW's for the usual stuff in particular mentions at self harm/suicidal things a person could be capable of doing. But none of it happens, just dropping a warning <3
> 
> Not much left to go on this fic now, it was waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay longer than I intended, like way longer whoops I'm a mess. Obviously there will be more Wanda/Nat/Clint stuffs in future fics, and there will for sure be a couple more chapters coming before the end of this one. Thanks for sticking with me through this wild angsty ride.
> 
> sestra - sister

Eventually the trio really did need to get moving. Laura had begun to open the curtains, pausing and staring at them for a few seconds before pulling them back closed.

So it was easy to infer that the kids were up and running around and it was really time to go inside. Clint carefully helped the girls to their feet, a frown pulling at his lips.

They were all pretty damn dishevelled. 

They were all covered in mud, Natasha had blood on her pants and hands and Clint had bruises around his neck. The kids couldn’t see that.

“Shit.” The archer tugged a hand through his hair. “How are we gonna get outta this one?”

Wanda looked between the other two, lips pursing for a second. “I have an idea.” She murmured. “Nat, get on Clint’s back.”

The redhead blinked and raised an eyebrow but still moved towards Clint, who crouched down to let Natasha hop up onto his back. Wanda moved to the side of them and took Natasha’s hands, sliding her arms around the back of Clint’s neck.

The bruises were hidden from view from the very things that had caused them in the first place. Natasha looked more than a little nauseous, but Clint didn’t even flinch. Sure it hurt a little but he’d had a lot worse and had given worse to Natasha (during the Loki shitshow), and he would never be afraid of her. It had been an accident, a mistake, and everyone made those.

“Okay, now Nat, wrap your legs around Clint’s waist.” Wanda took a step back to admire her work. “Little further down, and Clint, put your hand here-“ The girl guided Clint’s hand until he was holding Natasha in such a way that would stop the blood from showing, as long as they kept to the left side of the room and moved straight up the stairs.

There wasn’t anything they could do about the mud, but that wasn’t an issue. The blood and bruises had been covered for the time being, and the dirt could be explained away as work around the farm. Hopefully.

“Ready?” The archer asked softly, tilting his head a little to try and see Natasha. The redhead flinched and avoided his gaze, hiding her face against the back of his neck instead. She gave no more than a grunt for affirmation. 

Her arms shook and Wanda could tell how lightly she was trying to hold on around Clint’s neck. It strained her shoulders and back and pulled at her broken rib until stabbing pains moved through her body. But she didn’t tighten her hold, even though she felt she could slip right off.

“It’s okay, sestra. Everyone’s okay.” Wanda murmured, “let’s go in and get cleaned up, yeah?”

Clint took a slightly shaky breath, tightened his hold on his partner’s legs and conjured a smile out of nowhere. “Let’s do it.” He hummed, squeezing Natasha’s knee in a show of solidarity. “Hold on tight, little Red.” 

A funny look crossed Natasha’s face as the archer said that, and Wanda saw her eyes mist over before she hid her face once again. 

_Nearly everyone thought that Tony had come up with the nickname Little Red, but he had actually picked it up from Clint. Tony just used it more because he was a sucker for nicknames and literally never used actual names. _

_Clint had first said those words in Russia. He’d seen how she flinched at the name Natalia, and using her last name felt too formal and using her Red Room given name would only worsen the situation. It had been before she’d taken the name Natasha, and he hadn’t wanted to just say ‘her’ so he’d called her Little Red, because she had red hair, obviously, and was shorter than him._

_The way he said it had immediately borne familiarity, it had sounded right in a way Natalia never had. It had been at least half of the reason she’d gone to America with him. One nickname, one person seeing how much her original name pained her, the thought he’d put into simply referring to her. _

_That had been after their fight, after far too many injuries for both of them, after Natasha had dropped her knife and sank to the floor, waving the proverbial white flag because she was so so so tired. After he’d knelt in front of her, after he’d held a towel against her bleeding temple, after he’d gotten her to take some sips of water because she was pale._

_Before the start of the rest of her life._

Wanda took the lead, letting Clint follow up close behind her left side. If needs be, she could distract the kids whilst the archer rushed his precious cargo up the stairs and away from prying eyes and questioning children who literally had spies as family members. Kids could be intuitive at the best of times, never mind having Clint and Nat around since birth.

Wanda pushed the door open, immediately immersed into mornings at the farm. The boys were running around playing some sort of game, one that Laura was exasperatedly telling them to be careful with, and Lila was talking animatedly about a message from her friend as she poured cereal into bowls.

The chatter and hubbub died down a little as the three walked in and Wanda found herself very anxious that something was going to go wrong. More wrong than things had been going, that was. She really really really did not want the children to notice the marks on Clint’s neck. Not only was that a traumatising thing for any kid to see, but Natasha would absolutely never forgive herself.

The girl’s head filled with all sorts of scary outcomes. Her mind was still struggling to see past the images Clint had inadvertently sent her way when he’d gone wandering into the past and Wanda felt the skin on her arms burn at the mere thought of what a guilty, hopeless, thought she was a monster, Natasha would do.

In the end, it actually went better than expected. Wanda managed to block little Nate, scooping the boy up in her arms and distracting him with the thought of the yummy chocolate cereal Lila was putting out. Laura kept the mini-Nat busy with food, which left Cooper, who had started to walk towards his father. 

Natasha’s heart pounded frantically in her temples and Wanda could hear the constant chatter in the woman’s head of _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, fuck I’m sorry _as the boy crept closer. 

“Dad?” Cooper wrinkled his nose at the state of the them, eyes that were far too critical for a child wandered over the pair. “Auntie Nat?”

“Morning, bud.” Clint hummed, carefully turning on the stairs, hoping to God Natasha didn’t slip off of him. “I’m just taking Auntie Nat upstairs to get clean, you should’a seen her slip on the mud earlier.”

He wasn’t lying. He wouldn’t lie. Natasha had slipped on the mud, it just hadn’t been an accident or funny in any way, shape, or form. But still. 

The archer was pretty sure Natasha wouldn’t speak, but something about the children always made her feel more human. Plus, she was the best spy out of Shield, that came with a shit ton of bullshitting, lying, undercover work, and pretending that everything was fine. 

She may have only been enacting the last one, but Natasha was good at what she did.

“I dragged your dad down there too, I couldn’t have everyone thinking I was the clumsy one instead of him.” The woman somehow kept her voice even, managing to magic a smile out of thin air.

Cooper still looked suspicious, but laughed and shook his head. “No one’s ever gonna think that, Auntie Nat.” 

Natasha laughed softly from behind Clint, and the archer was struck with the sudden and overpowering feeling that the laugh had been genuine. She was laughing. Even after everything, Natasha was laughing.

This time the smile that spread across Clint’s face was genuine too. “Well I never.” He fake huffed with annoyance. “Were you kids always so rude to your old man?”

Cooper crossed his arms over his chest. “You bring it on yourself, dad.” He replied snarkily, looking as proud as punch at his burn. 

Natasha snorted inelegantly, hiding her face against Clint’s shoulder for a moment. This time her shaking was from laughter more than anything else. There was a slightly hysterical edge to it, but the archer one hundred percent preferred that over the frantic sobbing or the empty nothingness.

“Nat,” Clint groaned, “you’re supposed to be on my side.” He pouted.

“But he’s so right.” Natasha giggled, peeking up from Clint’s shoulder to look across at the boy, who also burst into a fit of giggles at both his auntie’s look and the disdain on his dad’s face.

“This whole family is against me.” Clint sighed, shaking his head. “Now go help your sister before you wound my pride any more.”

Cooper tried to stop himself laughing, biting into his lip to stop another giggle from escaping. “Sorry, dad.”

“You’re literally not sorry at all.” Clint raised an eyebrow and there was a ninety-nine percent chance that if he hadn’t been holding onto Natasha, he would have put his hands on his hips. 

“Nope!” Cooper grinned, shooting off in the direction of the kitchen.

Both Clint and Natasha let out a shaky breath of relief and finished their journey up the stairs, where the archer carefully kicked the bedroom door shut behind him before depositing Natasha gently onto the bed.

The smile had been wiped clean from the redhead’s face now that they were alone and her green eyes were hyper focused on the bruises littering Clint’s skin. “I…” She stammered.

Clint cut her off, not in a mean way, his voice soft. “First we patch you up, get you clean, and then we talk, okay?”

Natasha found that she was immediately grateful for the question that hadn’t really been a question at all. She was bleeding and the mud was gross and she sure as hell needed some time to gather her thoughts and think about what she was going to say.

“Okay.” Natasha said quietly, nodding her head once.

Clint’s still somehow easy smile answered back. “Okay.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna be so sad when this fic is over :( but there are for sure more instalments in the Wanda series coming I just love them so muccccch. Sorry this turned into a lot of Clint too whoops. I hope you enjoy, not long left to go. Slight TW for brief unintentional self harm.

First things first, they had to get clean, or cleaner at least. Natasha’s leg was still bleeding but trying to stitch it up whilst they were both filthy was them just begging for an infection. 

Wanda had clearly been immersed in the chaotic morning in the Barton household, and despite the shittiness of the situation, despite every injury and every bad thought, Natasha’s insides warmed at the very idea.

The girl would be helping as much as she could. Helping Nate eat his cereal, helping Laura with the dishes, helping the oldest two with their homework. She had been so tentative and afraid when they’d first gotten there but now Wanda was downstairs, fully involved, not needing Clint or Natasha there for support anymore. 

Wanda was probably listening to the family’s conversations, chiming in every once in a while, but preferring to listen. She probably had a smile on her face, probably laughed at outlandish children’s remarks and stories of their parents and auntie, probably began to feel at home.

Natasha thought about the girl a lot as she stepped under the burning spray of the shower, trying to scrub the caked on mud coating her limbs. She was so deep in thought that she missed the first knock on the bathroom door, and the second.

“Nat?” A rough voice asked from outside, tone increased, worry lacing it.

“Yeah?” Natasha called back, unsurprised when her voice cracked. 

“You want some help?” Clint asked and Natasha could imagine the way the archer wrung his hands, nervously, without realising. 

She didn’t deserve help, especially not his.

“If you don’t, that’s cool but if you do and just don’t want to ‘burden’ me or you don’t think you should have it, then that’s not cool.” Natasha could hear a soft sigh from the other side of the door. 

“I…” Natasha swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut for a second. She was in pain, and she wasn’t entirely sure she could lift her arms long enough to wash her hair, not after she’d extra strained them by trying not to hold onto Clint too tightly. She was so fucking tired.

“Okay.” The redhead said after a moment, tone managing to emphasise just how exhausted she felt. “Only a bit though.”

“Only a bit.” Clint conceded softly as he pushed the door open. It was hardly the first or fifth or even tenth time they’d helped one another with what would have been rather embarrassing situations for most people, Natasha had never been particularly fussed with people seeing her body. 

But this time, the woman wrapped her arms around herself as she slowly lowered herself to the bottom of the tub, bringing her knees up to her chest. She refused to look at Clint, eyes steadfastly focused on a rubber duck perched on the side of the bath.

“Hair?” Clint asked, already reaching for the showerhead so he could detach it and bring it down to Natasha’s level. 

“Please.” Natasha replied quietly, nails digging into her knees for the briefest of seconds before she winced and forced her palms to flatten out. Clint caught the movement, but stayed quiet. She had stopped herself, realized what she was doing, she didn’t need him to point it out too.

Before the archer started, he reached out and pressed the back of his hand against Natasha’s forehead for a few seconds. He hummed and adjusted the temperature. “I know you like to literally steam yourself into oblivion in the shower, but you are still kinda warm. I don’t want your fever to get any worse.”

Natasha shrugged, not really caring much about the temperature of the water, she could barely feel it anyway. “Sure.” She muttered.

Clint tenderly brushed strands from the woman’s forehead, tilting her neck back a little to avoid water going into her eyes. After her hair was completely wet, he spent a good few minutes lathering up shampoo, massaging as gently as he could, hoping it would help the tension emanating off the woman even a little.

“You’re probably going to have to get Laura to help you with these knots.” Clint hummed as he began to rinse out the shampoo. “I’ll only end up pulling your hair out and then I’ll have to pull out my own hair in solidarity and it would be a whole thing.”

Natasha murmured something non-committal, absently watching the muddy suds wash down the plughole. Clint continued to chat, something he did when nervous or when he thought things were too quiet. Natasha did feel a little guilty about filtering most of it out, but the archer was probably aware that she wasn’t really able to listen. The rumbling of his voice was nice regardless of her ability to listen to the content.

“Hair’s all done, love.”

Natasha did catch that, blinking and rubbing away a drop of water on her temple. “Thanks.” She murmured.

“Need anything else?” Clint smiled, despite the fact she wasn’t even looking at him. 

“I’m good.” The redhead paused before shaking her head. “I’m good with showering, I meant.”

And that was pretty good. She wasn’t saying she was good completely, or fine, or anything else that wasn’t true. Clint would have known it was a lie anyway but hearing a hint at an admission Natasha wasn’t okay was progress from earlier. 

“Alright, I’m gonna head to the other bathroom. Give someone a yell if you need anything.” Clint got up from his knees, hooking the shower head back into the main unit. He dropped a kiss to Natasha’s temple before heading to get himself clean.

Natasha wasn’t sure how long she sat under the water, in the same position, but it was long enough for the sheer force of the water to clean the mud from her skin and even though the temperature had been lowered, her skin was still pink by the time she realized she should have gotten out. She would have felt worse about using a bunch of hot water if not for the fact that the farm had its own water source the family used.

Heaving a big sigh and wincing as her muscles screamed protests, Natasha clambered up to her feet and shakily stepped down onto the mat. Whether she’d been sitting so long from exhaustion or the fact she’d blanked out or the fact she was terrified of her and Clint’s coming conversation, she had no clue. Probably all of them. 

Just as she was reaching for the door handle, towel haphazardly thrown around herself, there was a knock. It was a soft rhythm, one Natasha immediately recognised from late night visits.

“Nat?” Wanda calling for the woman confirmed what she already knew and with trepidation in her stomach and an ache in her chest she wasn’t sure would ever go away, Natasha pulled the door open. 

And promptly burst into laughter.

Wanda was glaring at Natasha, though her very pink lips were curled into a supressed smile. Out of the three of them, Wanda had suffered the least damage from the mud attack, and had likely been able to just clean up at the sink. Apparently that hadn’t been good enough for one member of the family because Wanda had also been used as a human canvas for whatever make-up Lila had decided she wanted to play with. 

“I’ll have you know, this is all the rage is France right now.” Wanda said haughtily, arms crossed over her chest. The bright pink eyeshadow and star stickers stuck to the girl’s cheeks only added to the hilarity of Wanda’s fake annoyance. 

“Please tell me Laura got a photo.” Natasha smiled, shaking her head. “We can add it to the scrapbook of ‘activities the kids were obsessed with for about a week’, it includes some lovely braiding of Clint’s hair and his nails being painted, and me being forced into dress up clothes that were way too small and having to put on an entire show whilst literally suffocating.”

Wanda couldn’t pretend to be pissed anymore, snorting at the idea of Natasha squeezed into tiny outfits for the children’s amusement. “I need to see that Clint picture. For research, of course.”

“Of course.” Natasha hummed, “it wouldn’t be to mercilessly tease him at all.”

“Oh no, not at all.” Wanda grinned, shaking her head. 

“You have fun?” Natasha asked as the pair simultaneously stepped away from the door to head to the guest room. 

“So much.” Wanda sighed dreamily, casually bumping shoulders with the other woman. “Thank you for asking if I could tag along. It’s nice here.”

It was just as Natasha had suspected, Wanda was beginning to feel at home, comfortable, safe. 

It was fucking brilliant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!! <3


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOOOOOOOOOOO
> 
> It's been a while but most of y'all know what's going on in my life constantly that makes it hard to upload. For newbies, hi, welcome! I love writing but I also have pesky chronic physical and mental issues going on that make it difficult to ever know when I'll be up to writing and editing a chapter so most of the time, unless I'm in a good spot, uploading is sporadic. I'm beyond sorry about it but life be like dat sometimes. Hope you wanna read anyways, if not, this fic is almost at it's end and you're more than welcome to pop back when it's done :)
> 
> Maybe 1 or 2 chapters left boissss I'm gonna miss this one so much, but I have new ideas for another part of this series and it's gonna be good! Might have already been hinted at throughout this fic and 'Not Enough' ;)
> 
> If you like my Wanda stuff, you might wanna subscribe so you don't miss out on the next instalment ;) shameless self promo there.
> 
> TW's are the same as usual. Sestra=sister.
> 
> Enjoy loves!

Natasha could have asked Wanda to go back downstairs before her and Clint’s ‘talk’, and the redhead knew the girl would without hesitation. But as the pair walked back to the guest room, Natasha found the words kept dying on her lips and by the time she was sitting down on the end of the bed, she had no desire to utter those words at all. 

She could have asked Wanda to leave, maybe even should have, but she didn’t.

Maybe private conversations should be private, or maybe they shouldn’t be anymore. Wanda had been there, by her side, the whole time. She had been there when Natasha had returned bloody, when she had another nightmare, another panic attack, when she’d relapsed and gotten lost in her head, when she’d attacked Clint, almost killed him, and then tried to run away to…to hurt herself? Maybe not, but she had still run regardless.

Natasha had a hard time letting just anyone be privy to her and Clint’s conversations, there were still some things the redhead preferred to be kept between the pair of them, no matter how much she loved Laura. She was working on it and her and Clint had an agreement that the archer could discuss what had been talked about with Laura, every bit of it, she just sometimes couldn’t face saying it in front of the woman. 

Wanda was different. Wanda had seen inside her head, Wanda knew her past more than anyone except Clint did, Wanda knew about the scars and the pain and the attempts, Wanda knew about her mental health in a way none of the other Avengers (except Clint again) ever would. Wanda knew her. Natasha considered the whole Barton family her family, and now, if she wanted, the redhead would be more than happy to have the girl be a part too. But they had time for that. _Hopefully._

Natasha could have asked her to leave. But she really didn’t want to.

The redhead hadn’t been sitting on the bed for long when Wanda began to potter around. She’d clearly been watching Clint and Natasha move around the room before, and knew where the woman’s clothes were. 

Ah, yes, getting dressed instead of having a difficult conversation in just a towel was probably a good idea. Honestly, it wouldn’t have been the first time they’d had that kind of talk in virtually no clothes (thank you, Budapest for that particular shit show), but now she had the option of getting dressed when last time they hadn't (because Clint had_ lost_ their duffle bag and their clothes were head to toe dripping wet), she was going to take any opportunity to feel more human and more prepared.

Ugh, Natasha felt sick.

Except this time, she knew it wasn’t withdrawal, she was just fucking scared shitless that, even after how nice Clint had been, how great he was, he would have to send her away for the sake of the kids. And yes, he’d literally said **THE EXACT OPPOSITE** outside when Natasha had said she shouldn’t have come, but emotions clouded judgement and the archer had had time to re-evaluate and consider. She was a danger, whether he wanted to admit that or not, and she would understand if she needed to leave.

Wanda held up a shirt to Natasha, who was very clearly not paying attention at all, eyebrow raised in question. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a plain tank top. Natasha struggled to remember if it was actually hers or something of Laura’s.

“Hmm? Yeah, sure, that’s good.” The redhead shrugged a shoulder, absently picking at a nail with some blood underneath that the shower hadn’t gotten to. In the back of her mind, she wandered if Wanda would paint her nails for her now she was done with the mission. 

Noting that Natasha was not fussed in the least about which clothes were picked, far more interested in her hand, the girl just chose whatever she came upon first. She tossed the shirt, along with a sports bra, underwear, socks and a pair of sweatpants onto the bed and turned her back to gaze out of the bedroom window so Natasha could get dressed without eyes on her.

As the sounds of shuffling into clothes reached her ears, Wanda hummed softly. “It’s so quiet here.” She shook her head, finger tracing a cobweb on the outside of the glass. “I’ve never seen so much green before and the flowers, don’t get me started on the flowers, I can smell them from here.” The girl sighed almost dreamily as her eyes took in the blue of the sky. She gently cracked the window open and inhaled slowly, smiling despite everything. Man, it was heavenly. Wanda could _definitely_ get used to it. 

Natasha must have gotten dressed quickly because in a moment, she was standing beside Wanda, gazing around at the farm too, watching the cows in one of the back fields graze happily. “We could take some back with us. Flowers, I mean. Tony’ll hate it, but Steve would probably love having them.”

“Well I mean, if Tony will hate them…” Wanda waggled her eyebrows and bumped Natasha’s shoulder. “That sounds like a nice idea. We could plant some under the windows, if we wake up in the night, it would be helpful too.”

Opening her mouth to agree, a knock at the door had Natasha’s smile fading and body tensing, words forgotten. She turned from the window, clasped her hands in front of her and took a very decidedly shaky breath in. “You can come in.” 

The door popped open and Clint slipped in, closing it behind him. Running a towel over wet strands of sandy hair, he looked between the women. “Are we okay for this?”

It was clearly a conversation they needed to have, but no one had said it had to be done immediately, if Natasha wasn’t up to it, they would leave it for another time. 

Wanda glanced at the woman and the door, feeling a little useless and awkward standing by the window. “I can-“ She’d barely gotten the time to say those two words and gesture vaguely at the door before Natasha was shaking her head, fingers clenching like she wanted to grab the girl and hold on. 

“Stay.” Natasha said quietly, “please?”

It was clear that the talk was going to be focused on the archer and the redhead, Wanda would get her chat with Nat later, but if her friend wanted her almost silent support, she couldn’t say no. “Sure.” The girl smiled, climbing up onto the bed and crossing her legs. She was close to Natasha but not touching, ready to offer a hand if the woman seemed like she needed it.

Clint, nonplussed and more than happy for Wanda to stay, got onto the bed also, seeing no point in standing and looking down at Natasha. He slightly awkwardly tucked his legs underneath him, not wanting to take up the whole bed but also not able to look elegant or graceful in anyway whatsoever.

“Okay, I guess I’ll start.” Clint said quietly, eyes focused on Natasha. “Because you need to hear what I wanna say, Tash, and I really need you to believe me.” He took a breath and clasped his hands together. “I know you’re going to be feeling guilty and scared and…unworthy or something, and I truly mean it when I say you don’t need to be. I know that doesn’t stop anything, or ‘fix’ anything, but really Nat, you don’t need to feel that way.”

He took a second to gauge Natasha’s reaction. She was quiet and hadn’t quite met his gaze at all, but she wasn’t immediately saying the opposite of what he said, so…not _that_ bad.

“What happened was an accident. You didn’t realize it was me, you thought you were in danger because you’re going through withdrawals, because you have a fever, because you…because you were triggered. From your past or from the mission, or both, but Nat, it wasn’t on purpose. You would never hurt me on purpose. And before you say it, yes you knocked me out with the whole Loki thing, but I needed that to be free. You did that to save me. What happened this time was-“

Natasha cut him off. “What happened this time was that I wrapped my hands around your throat and almost killed you.” She ground out through gritted teeth. “What happened was me losing control and nearly fucking _killing_ you, Clint. Killing you with your family and your children right inside. How the hell are you so chill about that?”

Clint swallowed. “First off, not just my family. Your family too, your niece and nephews and basically your sister, not just my family. And I’m chill with it because it was an accident. You didn’t mean to. I know that, Wanda knows that, Laura will know that. You need to try and see that, love. Put it this way…would you, if you were in your right mind and I wasn’t brain controlled or whatever, would you hurt me on purpose? Ever? Would you look at me and intend on hurting me, even if we were both clear?”

Natasha lifted her head, brows pulled together. “No.” She whispered, “no, of course I wouldn’t.”

“There you go, Tash.” Clint said gently, reaching across and squeezing her knee. “If you need to hear me say I forgive you, then I do, I always will. But, love, there isn’t anything to forgive because you didn’t do anything wrong. It was confusion, an accident, not you. You wouldn’t hurt me on purpose, you never will.”

“It…it’s not that simple, or…or that easy.” Natasha shook her head, clenching her hands. “You’re hurt. I…I did that, I…”

“It was an accident, sestra.” Wanda murmured softly from behind her, absently pulling her fingers through a tangle in Natasha’s hair. “It can be that easy, if you let it be.”

Clint smiled and hummed. “You know she’s tellin’ the truth, Nat.”

Natasha groaned softly, rubbing at her face tiredly. “You know, it’s really not fair when you use reverse psychology on me.”

Clint glanced between them for a second before letting out a soft laugh, putting the pieces together easily enough. “Nat told you that before, didn’t she, kid?”

“Yep.” Wanda grinned, proudly, “those exact words after Lagos, when I holed up in my room crying my eyes out for like three days straight. Different circumstances, same outcome. Accidents happen, Nat. It would be a pretty shitty world if no one forgave accidents.”

“Okay, Nat, Wanda may actually be better at this than you. She’s definitely better at this than me. So, love, you gonna believe us and your own words?” Clint asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I…I don’t know if I can. Not right away.” Natasha said honestly, looking up from her hands. “But I’ll try.”

“That’s all I wanna hear, Tash. Trying is all you can do.” Clint smiled softly, leaning in to press a kiss to her hair. “It’s okay, love.” He said quietly, but firm.

“It’s going to be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for stopping by! :) lemme know what you thought and I'm always more than happy to receive new ideas for next time. Peace <3

**Author's Note:**

> Comments make for a happy writer :) Thanks for reading!


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